


Little Wonder

by sweariwouldnt



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: 2014 era, Canon Divergent, Coming Out, Fluff, M/M, Mpreg, Pregnant Harry, Pregnant Sex, Smut, Swearing, a bit of angst, bit of a lactation kink, vague mention of abortion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-29
Updated: 2017-07-29
Packaged: 2018-12-08 11:11:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 33,884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11645382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweariwouldnt/pseuds/sweariwouldnt
Summary: A mistake, or perhaps a well-thought out fluke of fate, results in Harry and Louis welcoming their first child. This is how it all goes down.





	1. The beginning.

**Author's Note:**

> Dearest Ashtarok,  
> happy pregnant Harry! I hope you enjoy joining Harry and Louis on their journey of welcoming their first bundle of love. I tried to have a bit of everything in this that you'd wished for; just happy pregnant Harry, emotional and overprotective Louis and some tour shenanigans. This is a labour of love I very much enjoyed writing, I do hope you like it x
> 
> \--  
> The biggest thank you to my very bestest beta Nina. You are the best cheerleader and I adore you x  
> \--
> 
> Please note. In this universe, male pregnancies are common - some men are fertile, some are not (Harry is, Louis is not).  
> Also, I have never been pregnant or given birth myself, so I apologise for any unrealistic claims I've possibly made during this. Artistic liberties and all that!

“She’s so tiny, Lou,” Harry’s voice is barely a whisper, as he runs the tip of his index finger softly down Doris’ fuzzy cheek. She makes a smacking sound with her mouth, and stirs in her sleep. Harry quickly pulls his hand away as if it got burned, and cradles it close to his chest with his other hand.

In the dim nursery light, Louis’ trying to contain his laughter at Harry’s shocked look. “It’s fine, she’s asleep.” 

“Don’t want to wake her up,” Harry mutters. “Your mum only just got them to sleep.” He takes a few steps back from the cot, hands up as if willing for Doris and Ernest to stay sound asleep. 

Unfortunately, with the baby twins not being the only children in the household, there’s a squeaky dinosaur toy left hanging about on the floor and true to Harry, he manages to trip over it, stumbling on the floor. Ernest makes a fussy sound. 

“Bloody he…” Harry starts and then shuts it, remembering he’s in the company of children and there’s no way he’s going to be a bad influence. 

“It’s like you get worse the more you try, babe.” 

Harry flips him off and places the dinosaur – making yet another squeak, raising no reaction from the twins luckily – on top of an overflowing wicker basket of toys. “I’m awful with babies,” he sounds deflated. “Proper s-h-i-t,” he spells out. 

“You’re wonderful, Harry dear,” Jay’s soft voice comes from the door. “They’re still sound asleep. No harm done. And even if they would’ve woken up, it’s not the end of the world. They’d just go back to sleep.” Jay smiles and adds as an afterthought. “Eventually.” 

Harry takes another look at the little bundles wrapped up in white onesies; other with little pictures of bees and the other with a swallow on the chest. “They’re so small,” Harry says again in awe.

“Tiny,” Louis nods with his eyes crinkling, as he looks at his little siblings one last time.

“Babies are amazing,” Harry says to no one as they walk down the stairs and his eyes catch a picture hanging on the wall, of a toddler-Louis hugging a black cat. “Their eyes look like they know all the secrets of the world. So wise.” 

Jay bursts out laughing. “They’re babies, dear. They sleep and eat and poop.” 

“Oh come on, mum,” Louis shoves her shoulder. “So do I and I’m still well wise and smart.” 

Harry beams at Louis. “And know all the secrets of the world.” 

“Exactly,” Louis nods and puts his hand around Harry’s waist, squeezing the soft bit. “I’m glad you appreciate my special skills, even if my own mum doesn’t.” 

Jay rolls her eyes as they enter the kitchen, and she flicks the kettle on. “Louis, love, you know I think you’re brilliant. All my children are. I don’t make shit kids, you know.” 

“I knew Daisy’s adopted,” Fizzy says nonchalantly as she enters the kitchen. “What’s for pudding?”

“Nothing for you, evil,” Jay winks her eye. “And don’t tell Daisy.” 

“Or Phoebe, actually. It’s a bit obvious they came as a bogof.” 

“Bargain, really,” Jay nods. “Buy one get one free.” She leans to kiss the top of Fizzy’s head, who’s looking a little incredulously at her mum and brother. “Tea and Jaffa cakes for pudding. Or well, post-pudding pudding as we already had the crumble.” 

Sitting on one of the two bar stools by the kitchen island, Harry’s looking at the whole exchange, a little mesmerised to be truthful, as Jay puts down a bowl of Jaffa cakes. 

“How do you do it?” Harry asks as he picks up a Jaffa cake and starts crumbling off the sides around the filled centre. 

“Do what, dear?” Jay takes the mugs Louis’ is offering her, puts three down on the island top as Louis and Fizzy take the remaining ones and disappear to the living room. 

Harry shrugs, feeling unsure how to put his thoughts into words. “Like,” he rubs his nose, “they are so tiny in their cots, sleeping. They could break so easily. How do you, I don’t know, keep them safe?” 

Jay fiddles with her heart-shaped locket absentmindedly, a locket that Harry knows has two pictures featuring all her children in it. “You just… try your best, I guess. You can’t protect them from everything, but you just have to try, don’t you?” 

“But it never really ends though, does it? Like, they look so safe sleeping now, like nothing could, or should, ever hurt them, but then they’ll grow up and it’s, it’s just worry after another and…” 

Jay’s about to say something as Louis walks back in, sitting down on the stool next to Harry. Harry passes him the round centre of the Jaffa cake without thinking, as he pops one of the leftover pieces to his mouth. He can feel Jay look at him, then to her son, and then back to him. 

She’s smiling softly. “I guess you just have to try your best, and trust them to be ok. Hope you’ve done a decent enough job.” 

“I personally think you’ve done an ace job,” Louis says with his mouth full as he picks up another Jaffa cake from the bowl and breaks it in two, giving Harry the other piece as he dips his own into his tea. “Look at how amazing I turned out.” Louis can feel Harry’s hand squeezing his knee. 

“You sure did,” Jay smiles as she leans over the counter and smacks a wet kiss on Louis’ forehead. She then turns to look at Harry. “You just sort of…. deal with it, dear. As long as everything comes from love, you’ll be fine.” 

She looks at Harry and Louis for a while, contemplating. “You two will be amazing parents one day.” 

\--

“I’m so telling my mum, _again,_ that as much as she wants to keep this room as a shrine for me, she should definitely at least replace this bed with a bigger one,” Louis grunts later that night as they’re going to bed, with Harry and him turning around in the small bed with limbs knocking into each other. “Ouch. Whacked my nose.” 

“Sorry,” Harry kisses Louis’ nose. 

It takes a little while to find a position that’s not too uncomfortable for either, with Harry half on top of Louis, who’s laying on his side and watching him. 

“What’s worrying you?” Louis’ thumb is caressing the worried crease between Harry’s brows. 

Harry shakes his head slightly and then rests his head on Louis’ chest. “Nothing.” 

Louis lifts Harry’s chin with his finger and raises his brow, questioning. 

“Just…. Kids.” 

Louis smiles kindly and nods. “Ah, the kids. Of course, I see. The kids of the world. What have they done now?” 

Harry chuckles and pinches Louis’ nipple. “Not all the kids, you tit. Like… maybe our kids.” 

“There’s kids who are maybe ours?” 

“Shut up,” Harry laughs. “Kids that one day might be ours.” 

“What’s wrong with them, then?” Louis honestly cannot think of one thing that his and Harry’s genes could cause that’d be worrisome. 

Harry puts his hand around Louis and pulls him tightly close for a moment, then loosening his grip. “It’s just... It’s huge, being a parent.”

“Hugely amazing.” 

“Yeah,” Harry agrees. “And hugely scary.” 

Louis’ fingers find their way around Harry’s curls above his ear, and he stars curling them around his finger until a thought hits him and his hand stops still. “Is… Is something up? Like something you want to maybe tell me?” 

It takes a moment for Harry to realise what Louis means, and he pulls away, a horrified look on his face. “God, no! No, nothing like that.”

“OK, good,” Louis resumes petting Harry’s hair. “Like, we both want to, in the future, we’ve talked about it, but like… This would be an awful time.” 

“Fuck yeah,” Harry shivers a bit. “You know I’m on the pill, like, that’s not… what this is about at all. Just the babies made me think, that’s all. It’s fucking scary, being a parent.”

They lay in silence for a bit, both lost in their own thoughts until Harry clears his throat. “And, like, I do want to. Have a family with you. That hasn’t changed, like, of course I do.” 

“Excellent news,” Louis plants a soft kiss on Harry’s ear. “I know it’s not the time for it now,” he starts to nibble down Harry’s jawline to his neck, sucking the warm skin with his lips. “But we should definitely practice making those future babies.” 

And they do.

\--

“Heey, brother,” Gemma sings as she picks up the phone. 

“Hey Gems,” Harry’s voice sounds croaky. “Listen, are you ok?” 

“Uhm. I’m pretty alright, on most days. Why?” 

Harry coughs and has a sip of water. “No, just, after our lunch the other day. Have you been feeling alright?” 

Gemma huffs. “Why, what do you mean? If I’ve been too starstruck after seeing my little brother the celebrity? What are you on about?” 

Harry licks his lips. His mouth feels dry, again, and he probably needs to get off this call quite soon. “I’ve been ill. Just wanted to check if you feel sick, too, if it’s something we ate.” 

“You had seafood pasta and I had spinach ravioli, we didn’t even have the same food.” 

“Ah, right,” Harry coughs again. “Cool. Just checking. Right, need to go, love you.” 

Gemma is trying to say something but all she hears is the noise of a hung up phone call. 

As Louis comes home about an hour later, he finds Harry on the bathroom floor, clutching a tall glass of water. 

“Aw babe,” Louis sits down on the floor next to Harry and puts a hand on his forehead. “Cold sweaty.” 

Harry groans. “I called Gems. She’s fine. We didn’t have the same food.” 

“You just need to puke it out, then.” Louis stands up and pulls Harry up to a hug. His back is all sweaty, too. “You’re really unwell, aren’t you babe?” He rubs Harry’s back soothingly as Harry plops against him, out of energy. 

“Just wanna sleep. And not throw up.” 

“Should you take some meds for this?” Louis is using his other hand to rummage through their mirror cabinet, the other still supporting a deadweight Harry. He finds the painkillers, seats Harry on the toilet and fills the glass with water. Louis pops a pill off the foiled plate and holds it to Harry’s lips. “Open up, love.” 

Eyes drooping, Harry opens his mouth as Louis puts the pill on his tongue, and Harry swallows with a big gulp of water. Possibly a placebo effect of knowing something that hopefully makes him feel better has entered his body, or just the cold, fresh water, but Harry reckons he feels better already. He leans back on the toilet seat and feels his forehead with the back of his hand. Clammy. 

“Oh, no, shit, sorry,” Harry has a lazy afterthought. “Those aren’t painkillers, those are my pills.” 

Louis turns the palette around in his hand. “Nooo,” he drawls out, “these clearly say paracetamol.” 

“What?” 

“Yeh, it’s definitely paracetamol.” Louis waves the packet.

“Hmm, okay. How many are left?” 

Louis looks at the foil plate on his hand, and then takes a look into the cabinet. “This is the last one, I think. It’s only got a few pills left.” 

Harry opens his eyes. “Didn’t you just bought a packet like, last week?” 

“Yeah,” Louis is moving a few items around in the cabinet. “It’s not here. Did you take it to Donny?” 

“No, I… Hmm. That’s strange.” There’s a weird feeling starting to rise in Harry’s stomach, but it’s probably just more vomit. 

“It’s fine, love. I’ll just go get more.” 

“Can you check how many palettes of my pills there are, too? I think I’m on my last one so should get more of those soon, too.”

Louis takes another look into the cabinet. “There’s none.” 

“What? Sure there is, I took some this morning.” 

“No, it’s just the paracetamol palette.” 

“Oh come on, surely there must be…” Harry gets up from the toilet seat but feels a bit dizzy, so he sits back down. 

“I swear, Haz, there’s nothing else here.”

“I took the pills with me to Donny, and then when we got home, I unpacked them and put them back into…” Harry’s thinking out loud, tracing back his actions of when they arrived back home a few weeks ago. “Lou, where’s the washbag?” 

On shorter trips to see family, they usually share a washbag as they try to travel as lightly as possible, and places they visit always have well-stocked bathrooms anyway. The bag’s filled with little bottles of shampoos and shower gels they’ve nicked from hotels around the world, so they don’t need to pack and unpack it; it’s basically ready to go all the time.

Louis disappears into their bedroom. Harry can hear him rummage through what is their embarrassingly untidy ‘dump everything you’re too lazy to deal with now’ -corner and finally comes back to the bathroom, holding the black washbag. 

Grabbing the washbag Louis hands him and quickly picking up the foil palette of pills, Harry feels his insides freeze. It’s his contraceptive pills. “Fuck me…” 

“Bit too ill for that, don’t you think?” 

“No, Lou,” Harry’s voice sounds shrilly. “These are my pills.” 

“What?” Louis takes the palette from Harry’s hand, turning it over and reading the brand name, then turning it again and quickly glancing at how many pills the palette is missing. “I don’t get it.” 

Harry presses his hands to his eyes. “Jesus fucking Christ fuck shit balls fuck fuck fuck.” 

“Harry? What’s going on?” Louis kneels in front of the toilet seat and shakes Harry’s knees a little. “What the fuck’s going on?” 

Harry lets out a frustrated yell. 

“Haz…” 

“Lou…” Harry feels his breathing getting quicker. It feels like he can hear the thump, thump, thump on his throat, in his ears, in the back of his eyes. He also feels like he might throw up again.

“I guess you just mistook the paracetamols with your…” Louis stops mid-sentence and his eyes go big. “Shit.” 

“Yep,” Harry pops the p. He just now realises he’s swaying himself back and forth. “I mistook the paracetamol for my pills. We got home, and I thought I put the pills to the cabinet, but I took the paracetamol.” 

“So….” Louis’ mind is going a mile a minute, or maybe it’s really not going anywhere at all. “So, you, uhm…” 

“So I haven’t taken the pill for like ages, Lou!” It comes out of Harry’s mouth like a desperate croak, and the cold, crippling feeling inside him is spreading even further. “And now I’m sick.” 

Louis is rubbing his temples with his fingers, elbows resting on Harry’s knees. 

“No, Lou, I’m really sick right now, move.” 

Louis rubs Harry’s back as Harry hugs the toilet. There’s a burning feel in Harry’s throat from dry heaving, as he’s got nothing in his body to throw up anymore. He can feel his eyes water, and he’s not sure it’s just from the strong physical reaction to throwing up. Finally he’s done, and he lays himself on the floor, head on the soft rug and the cool floor tiles feeling heavenly on his hot skin. 

Sitting cross-legged, Louis is rubbing Harry’s calf absentmindedly, up and down. “I, Haz, we…” Louis shakes his head as if to sober up. “Think we need to do a test.” 

Harry nods, unable to even look at Louis. He covers his eyes with his hands and tries to will himself to breathe deep and calmly. 

Louis reaches for his phone on his back pocket. 

“I fucking swear to God, Lou, if you’re going to use that to take a picture for like the baby book or something…” 

“Shh,” Louis flips Harry off, “texting Gemma. I can’t really walk to Boots and get a fucking pregnancy test, can I.” 

“No, don’t,” Harry reaches his hand towards Louis. “Not her. She’ll ask and worry and I just, I can’t right now. Can you order one online?”

“An online test? You want me to order one so someone can hack it and then it’ll be all over the news? Come on, Haz.” 

Harry sniffs. ”Fine, call Gemma then. Say it’s for a prank or something.” 

Louis, before he dials Gemma’s number, does consider (very briefly) taking a picture of Harry, but then decides it’s probably not the ideal state for any kid to see as what their parents looked like at the happy occasion of finding out they have a little one on the way. He presses green and Gemma picks up almost immediately. 

“Hey, Gemma, listen, we’ve got this excellent plan for pranking, uhm, Liam, and….” 

Gemma, a devious prankster by nature, is very up for it and promises to come around in about an hour to drop off the goods. 

Harry doesn’t say a word during the hour. When the doorbell finally rings, Louis goes downstairs, puts on a bravely cheery voice and claims Harry’s not home. Luckily, Gemma’s in a rush for a hot date. It takes about ten minutes from the door bell ringing to Louis being back in the upstairs, holding a Boots plastic bag as if maybe it’s a bomb.

They don’t say a word when their eyes meet, and Louis pulls Harry up from the floor. They don’t say a word when they read the instructions together quietly, they don’t exchange one thought when Harry pisses on a stick, and they don’t say a word during the world’s longest minutes until Louis’ alarm goes off to indicate that the test result is ready. 

They don’t say a word when the test is positive. It’s still quiet when Harry starts sobbing and when they stand in the middle of their bathroom where they’ve been huddled up for a good few hours now, they don’t say a word when they hug each other tight and Louis doesn’t say a word when Harry leans over the toilet to throw up again.

“I don’t… I don’t get how this is possible,” Louis starts, trying to gather his thoughts, as he’s rubbing Harry’s back up and down, with Harry trying to even his breath while leaning over the toilet. 

“Pretty simple,” Harry leans back and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, reaching out to get some loo roll to crumble it in his hand and wipe his face from sweat, snot and most likely some tears. He throws the paper into the toilet and flushes. “We had sex and I wasn’t on the pill. I fucked up.” 

Louis doesn’t know what to say to it, so he just looks at Harry. Harry looks like a mess, and Louis has never felt this helpless in his life. It’s like they’re walking on the thinnest line of rope above scorching lava, and if he breathes, it will turn into the wildest wind and make them fall. 

Harry stands up, knees shaking a bit, and goes to pick up the two palettes of different pills from where he’d thrown them on the floor. 

“I guess they look really similar,” he hesitates as he sits down next to Louis and shows the palettes to him. The pills are both white and round, of the same size; the palettes look exactly similar except for the small print of a brand name on the other side. “I just… Like, I just took the one from the washbag as my pills were the only ones even in there, and… didn’t check.” 

Louis suddenly recollects something “I… I put the painkillers in, just before we left, we were supposed to go out with the lads, I thought… Shit.” 

“Could’ve fucking told me.”

“Could’ve checked what you’re putting in your mouth.” 

And as the words leave Louis’ mouth, immediately resulting in Harry’s lower lip trembling, he wants to take it back. He didn’t mean it. “I didn’t mean it, god, sorry love, I…” 

“It’s the truth though, isn’t it!” Harry croaks out. “I should’ve checked. I fucked up.” 

“We did, it’s both of us, it’s not…” 

“I fucked up.” Harry repeats again, quietly, and it sounds like he has never meant anything more than he means this. “I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry. I fucked up.” He buries his face on his hands and starts crying; it sounds devastated, desperate, and it shakes his whole body. 

“Come on,” Louis pulls Harry’s upper body towards him so Harry can lay down and put his head, still covered with his hands, to rest on Louis thigh. Louis puts his hand on Harry’s forehead and starts stroking his hairline softly, soothingly he hopes. “It’ll be ok.” 

“No, it’s won't,” Harry mumbles. Louis hand carries on petting his hair. “I ruined everything. Fucking hate myself.” 

“It’s fine,” Louis says and tries to mean it; tries to believe it. “Everything’s going to be fine. I’ve got you.” 

“You must hate me,” Harry’s voice sounds questioning as he finally takes his hands off his face and reaches out to touch whatever part of Louis’ body his hand meets first – it’s Louis’ ankle, and Harry squeezes it. “You should hate me.” 

“Shh,” Louis presses a kiss on top of Harry’s head. The stretch of leaning down stretches his back, it feels uncomfortable. “I don’t hate you. You can’t hate you. We’ll be fine.” 

They stay on the floor, in silence, wrapped around each other until Harry’s sobs quiet down and the blood rushing in Louis’ ears calms down. They get up and Louis washes Harry’s face with cold water, drying it with a light grey towel. 

“We need to eat something,” Louis suggests. They’ve been in the bathroom for hours now, and as he can feel his emotions calm down a little – or maybe it’s more about his emotions numbing down – he can feel his empty stomach grumble. Harry’s been unwell for a few days and has barely eaten anything, either. 

“I’m not hungry,” Harry says and his throat sounds so dry, like speaking must be a bit painful. “Just want to get drunk right now. God I could really do with a smoke.” 

Louis almost agrees, almost says ‘it’s fine, yeah let’s get drunk, I’ve got smokes right here’, until the train of thought is stopped by Harry’s forced laugh.

“Guess I’m not going to be able to do that, now.” The dry statement is followed by more cussing. “Not going to be doing much anything.”

“What….” Louis hesitates. “What do you want to do?” 

“I want to turn back time, Lou, that’s what I want. Turn back time and delete this and then get absolutely hammered.” 

“I mean…” Louis vaguely gestures somewhere around Harry’s stomach. “With… that. This. Them.” 

Harry looks startled, like he hasn’t spared a thought that he actually has options. Decisions to make. Fuck, it’s been a reality for only such a short time, a shock of a reality, of course he hasn’t thought about one rational thing since that blue plus sign formed in front of his eyes.

He stutters for a bit. “I… I don’t know.” 

Louis nods, biting his lip and looking down.

“And, what do you mean, what do I want to do? It’s your… decision too.”

“It’s not though, not really.” 

“What? Of course it is! You’re not going to fucking put this all on me. It’s half yours, Louis.” Harry’s feeling panicky, flashing images of being left alone to deal with the responsibility, having this all on his conscience, on his shoulders until… well, until forever really. 

“I know! God, Haz, I’m not… of course I’m not fucking bailing out, but… It’s your body.” 

Harry raises his eyebrows and he can feel his nostrils flaring. “So what exactly are you saying, then?” 

“That in the end, it’s your decision. You’re the one who’s… carrying it.” Louis somehow can’t bring himself to say the word ‘pregnant’. “I’m, of course, I’ll support with whatever you decide, like I’m not going to put it all on you, but… It’s your decision.” 

Harry closes his eyes and breathes deep a few times, then opening his eyes slowly. “What do you think we should do? You should… You still get a say.” 

“I don’t know,” Louis really doesn’t know. “But, like, it doesn’t matter. I don’t want to… sway you this or that way. Like, I’ll be here, whatever happens.” He holds his arms open, and after a bit of hesitation, Harry hugs him. 

“I’m so sorry.” Harry hugs him tighter. “I don’t… I don’t know. I need… just need some time.” 

“Ok,” Louis says as he kisses Harry’s temple and he means it. Regardless of what happens, he knows it’ll be fine. Eventually. 

Harry’s stomach grumbles too, out of nowhere. “I think I could eat something.” 

Harry stares with empty eyes at the kitchen wall, wall with several polaroids of them; their family and friends, looking happy and carefree, while Louis is making a quick dish of noodles and tuna. Harry manages to eat almost half of his plate, not that it’s easy. 

“Think I’d like some fresh air and tea,” Louis says after he’s finished his food, gathered the dishes and put them into the sink to soak. He puts the kettle on and takes two mugs. “Come with me?” 

Harry nods, now focusing his eyes on the kettle with steam starting to arise from it. He looks, without really seeing, at Louis’ hands as they take two tea bags, drop them into the mugs, pours water on top and the steam from the kettle is now joined with two smaller steam clouds from the two mugs. Louis puts a tea spoon of sugar into the other one, a wee bit of milk to both of them, and offers the other to Harry. 

Startled from being lost in his thoughts of nothingness, Harry takes the mug and they go sit outside. Harry can see Louis’ hand fumble towards a pack of cigarettes on the garden table, only to quickly pull his hand away as an afterthought. 

“You can smoke.” 

Louis shakes his head. “Nah, it’s fine. It’s not good for… you.” Pondering a little, he adds. “Neither of you.” 

Harry takes a sip of his tea to calm himself. _Neither of you._ Yeah. He’s not really a single being anymore, is he? Subconsciously, he briefly puts a hand on his stomach and then pulls it away, as if it got burned. He sees that Louis saw it, but neither of them says anything. A dog is barking somewhere in the distance. 

Harry takes another sip of his tea and puts the mug down on the table, curling his legs up and turning to face Louis. “I don’t… I don’t know what I want to do. I feel… lost.” 

Louis offers him a small, sympathetic smile. “I know, babe.” 

“I think… I need some time, to think. And I… Don’t really want to talk about this.” 

“Okay.” 

“Can we like… try to pretend this isn’t happening?” 

A look of absolute sadness flashes on Louis’ face. “Babe…” 

“Not like, not for long, like obviously this is happening, I just… Want to clear my thoughts. Don’t want to go on and on about this.” 

“I just, don’t think that’s really… good. Like, this is happening, and we have to figure this out.” 

“I know,” Harry sighs and reaches for his mug again. “I just… kind of want to figure this out. Like, you said it’s my call, what to do and…” 

“And I meant it. I’m going to be here no matter what.” 

“Thank you,” Harry manages a small smile. “My head’s a mess, I just want it to shut up for a bit.” 

“Do you think you should call your mum, or something?” 

Harry shakes his head. “No, no, this is… This is just for us, now. I don’t want anyone to know.” 

What Harry doesn’t say is he feels like he’s a failure, and he can’t deal with what he’s sure would be looks of judgement; of people looking at him knowing how badly he fucked up, accusing him of ruining his own life, Louis’ life, the band. 

“I get that, I think. I’ll just… Be here, if you need me.” Louis stands up and goes to stand behind Harry’s chair, hugging him from behind and pressing his nose to Harry’s hair, inhaling. “Also, love, you have to be kinder to yourself.” 

Harry covers Louis’ hand with his own and squeezes his fingers. 

\--

Louis knows he has a few flaws in his character; hell, he’s painfully aware of them. He goes from zero to sixty in a nanosecond when he’s pissed off, he talks before he thinks, he’s fiercely protective of the people he loves and he rarely thinks twice when someone he cares about is mistreated. However, he also takes a lot of pride in apologising when he’s wrong, he acknowledges the wrong in his ways and tries his hardest to improve his behaviour with learning from mistakes. He tries very hard to do the right thing, his moral understanding is strong and he knows that with this whole… situation he and Harry are suddenly in, he was absolutely right in telling Harry that it’s his decision in the end. His body, his decision. Louis is truly fine with whatever Harry decides, he isn’t going to up and leave the love of his life no matter what. 

But for fuck’s sake, it’s so hard. Harry has completely shut down and refuses to even acknowledge that there’s… an actual baby who now exists, growing every moment. Louis wants to call his mum, it’s his first gut instinct every time he finds himself in a pickle. Well, his first instinct really is always to talk to Harry, but Harry’s so closed off and visibly battling demons and what Louis can only imagine is huge guilt and blame in his own head. Louis wants to shake his boyfriend, force him to talk about this, for them to go through their options and make a plan, but he knows that would not be the right thing to do. So all he really can do is keep telling Harry that he’s got his full support, he’ll be there in any case. 

The thing is that since the start, it was so obvious for both of them that this was a forever -kind of thing. Marriage, kids, the whole shebang – that was their future, something they both desperately wanted. But that future was just that, a vague future somewhere in the far distance; they knew that’s where they’d end up, but now it feels uncontrollably fastforwarded. Like they’re getting exactly what they wanted but it was given without asking them. And Louis knows, of course he does, that they are young, they’ve got a huge world tour coming, they’re not even out for fuck’s sake. 

It’s only been a few days since they found out, when one evening Harry comes to Louis, who’s playing the piano in their living room just to lose his thoughts into something else, anything else. Harry’s got a beanie pulled down deep, he’s in black sweatpants that are most likely Louis’ and a navy hoodie whose initial owner Louis has no recollection of. It’s so old, the colour is a bit faded from having been worn so often; the collar is cut to make it wider and less tight, and the ribbons are tied in a way Louis showed Harry very early on. 

“Songbird,” Harry says softly as he recognises the song. It’s his favourite, always calms him down no matter what the worry. It’s a pretty strong candidate as a wedding song, they’ve decided. 

“Mmhmm.” 

Harry sits down on the piano chair next to Louis, listens for a bit and starts keying the same notes that Louis’ is playing. They finish the song, and the last note hangs in the air in an almost comforting way. 

Their living room bathes in hazy light; spring is coming and it gets darker later outside. Today’s been a half cloudy day. 

“Can we go to the beach?” Harry asks quietly. 

“Now?” 

“Yeh, now.” 

Louis nods, knowing how much Harry loves the sea. He says it makes him feel rooted, aware of himself and his surroundings, with how scary and powerful, and at the same time calming, the sea is. 

The nearest seaside is over an hour’s drive away. Harry’s brought two thermocups of coffee for them; but the smell makes him feel nauseous and they need to stop by the side of a busy road as Harry runs into the woods to throw up. 

The empty beach is grey; its greyness highlighted by the little stones that make up the beach. The sky looks dark but it’s not raining, the wind is chilly but not the type that freezes your bones. The sea is loud, waves crashing against the shore with some force – it’s not stormy, but it will be. 

They sit down on the stones, not too close to the water. Harry pulls his legs to his chest, Louis leaning back on his hands and legs stretched in front of him. They sit in a companionable silence, listening to the sea raving, until Harry leans his cheek on his knees and looks at Louis. 

“I’ve decided.” 

Louis sits up, brushing his hands against each other to get rid of the gravel. “Yeah?” 

“Yeah,” Harry turns to look at the sea and holds his legs tighter. “And like, you do… You get a veto. Or like, I won’t blame you if you disagree and want to leave.” 

“Not going to.” 

Harry bites his lip and takes a while to continue. “I’ve thought about… everything, really. How young we are, fuck, I’m barely twenty. And like, we have the tour, and this would affect it, and I know we’re not even out, and I… Like, I know this would fuck up a lot. Change lives, and not just like, mine. But yours, too, and I don’t want to… ever do anything that’s not good for you.” 

Louis listens to the words coming out of Harry’s mouth and, weirdly, as a suspended dread of whatever Harry will say next is chilling his insides, forming a lump on his throat, he also feels this overwhelming amount of love for Harry at this very moment. He wants to put his arm around Harry, pull him close, but he finds himself unable to move one part of his body. So he just listens and tries to focus on breathing. 

“So, all things considered, I decided that it would… It’s just the worst time. I decided that I’d just delete this problem.”

Louis wants to say ‘ok, fine, I support you’, but nothing comes out, his breath just hitches. He hopes Harry doesn’t hear it. Louis tries to focus on looking at the horizon, focusing all of his being into staring at a point that’s not even a point, but just staring straight ahead and hoping his body will react to something at some point; be startled back into action. 

Louis registers a deep, deep intake of breath coming from Harry as he continues. “But… I can’t, after all. It’s… a part of me now, and I can’t… Like, it is what it is and…” Harry lets out a long exhale. “And I’m keeping the baby.” 

Louis’ body reacts as if it suddenly defrosts from under a pile of ice. His head drops into his hands, there’s an embarrassing sob that comes out of his mouth, and he doesn’t even realise he’s moved until he finds himself having thrown himself on top of Harry, with them both now laying on the gravel, their legs an entwined mess and his hands touching every part of Harry’s face and head that he can find, peppering kisses to his nose, lips, cheeks, jaw, everywhere. Harry’s bright laugh is absolute music to his ears, the best symphony he has ever heard; it feels like a long heavy silence has finally ended. 

“Thank you,” Louis mumbles against a piece of fabric of the hood gathered in Harry’s neck. 

Harry puts his hands on Louis’ cheeks and stills his face, looking into his eyes. His green eyes look like they might be sparkling, and his dimple looks deeper than the sea they’re sitting by. “I gather you’re happy, then?” 

“The happiest,” Louis whispers against Harry’s lips and kisses him. “I really, really wanted this.” 

Harry wraps his arms around Louis’ shoulders tightly, and they lay there for a bit. Feeling Harry’s strong heartbeat on his chest through all the layers of fabric, Louis wiggles his hand under the hem of Harry’s hoodie and looks down, pulling the hem up a little until he gets a bit of Harry’s skin on show, the upper part of the laurel tattoos visible. He presses his open palm between them. 

“Hello, little wonder. We can’t wait to meet you.”


	2. First trimester

One of Harry’s favourite reasons of waking up in the mornings is the knowledge of getting a cup of coffee. The first smells of a fresh brew, the way he can feel caffeine hit his veins and make its way to his circulation; how he feels himself be filled with energising and comforting liquid black gold. 

Well, at least it _was_ one of his favourite reasons. 

“Eugh,” Harry snorts in disgust as the smell of coffee whiffs to his nose, making him nauseous. Tea it is, then. Again. 

“Your kid owes me a fucking lifetime of free coffees, mate,” Harry tells Louis who’s plopped on the sofa in his pajama pants, hair still ruffled from sleep and yawning. 

“Do they now?” Louis is amused as he takes a mug of tea off Harry’s hand. “Funny how it’s always ‘my kid’ when they’re up to no good.” 

“Not funny, just makes sense. My child is a perfect little angel, I don’t know what menace yours will turn out to be.” 

“Poor babe,” Louis offers sympathetically as Harry sits down next to him and places his feet on Louis’ lap, wiggling them around in a nonverbal request for a rub. “I’m sorry our monster child has come between you and your precious coffee.” 

Harry leans his head back and lets out a satisfied groan as Louis starts to press the arch of his foot with his thumb. “Your monster child, you mean.” 

Louis pinches the thin skin on top of his foot. “Not sure you should even be having coffee, love.” 

“I could have two cups. Two glorious cups a day. But obviously I physically can’t have any.” Harry pouts. “Just hoping this isn’t going to be like this for the whole time. You know how cranky I get if I don’t get coffee.” 

“It should be fine with like, in a few months’ time. I read that the nausea usually stops after the first trimester,” Louis’ makes safer conversation than commenting on Harry’s crankiness, as he’s now pressing his thumb deep into Harry’s soles. 

“Excellent,” Harry’s resting his head on the sofa’s arm rest, eyes closed. “Tell me other good things.” 

“Well,” Louis is gently rotating Harry’s foot now by the ankle, “you are actually allowed to have some cheese and even sushi.” 

“What?” Harry’s eyes shut open. “What the fuck do you mean, some?” 

“Yeh, some are safe. Not all.” Louis meets Harry’s eyes that have crinkled into annoyed slits. “You can have most of your faves, babe, all good.” He contemplates for a second. “But no brie. Or camembert.” 

“What?” Harry sits up so quickly he spills his tea onto the cushion he’d been hugging to his stomach. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” 

“Afraid not, babe,” Louis lifts Harry’s leg up and kisses the ankle bone. “But it’s fine, really, isn’t it? You can’t have wine either so it’d be like, a travesty to have cheese without wine anyway.” 

Harry groans again. “Being pregnant fucking sucks.”

“Oii,” Louis flicks Harry’s knee. “Got to cut down on the swearing, too. Don’t want our kid’s first word to be fuck.” He catches Harry’s mischievous face just in time, to see him silently repeating the very word in a row. “Right!” Louis says loudly and grabs another cushion, hitting Harry’s side with it. Harry’s laughing and trying to reach for his cushion pay Louis back, but Louis throws his cushion to the floor and traps Harry’s arms over his head with one arm. He rests his head on Harry’s stomach. 

“Please hurry up, little love, I can’t deal with your dad all by myself.” He presses a kiss close to Harry’s navel. “Or, well, actually don’t. Stay in as long as you need to, so you can grow big and healthy and brilliant.” 

Harry’s scratching behind Louis ear, as he adds. “And please reconsider your stance on coffee.” 

“I love it when you do that,” Harry sighs happily. 

“What, act as your messenger?” 

Harry chuckles quietly. “No, but like when you… talk to our baby.” 

“There’s three of us now.” 

“Yeah,” Harry beams at Louis. “So weird. And wonderful.” 

Louis starts to draw a heart with his finger on Harry’s bare stomach. “I still… Like, there’s a new life here. Inside you. That we made. I can’t get my head around it, always.”

Harry hums and starts drawing a heart on his skin, too, just on the upper part of the moth tattoo. “Me neither. It’s like… Our little wonder.”

“Best little wonder,” Louis presses another kiss on Harry’s tum, and sees his skin break in goose bumps. “Both of you.” 

Harry lifts his hips involuntarily, as Louis bites under his belly button and then licks down to the waistband of his white Calvin Kleins, teasing his finger under the rubber band and stroking along the band slowly. Harry’s legs fall more open, and he lifts a leg over the back of the sofa. Louis turns his attention to the revealed inside skin of his thigh, starting to nibble on the tender skin and pressing kisses behind his knee. 

“No, wait, Lou,” Harry starts, sounding a bit out of breath as he readjust himself and sits up, closing his legs. “Let me. I wanna.” He stumbles down on the floor, sitting down on his knees and pulling Louis to sit so that his legs are on both sides of Harry’s body. 

“I need my vitamin L,” Harry winks as he pulls Louis further down on the sofa so his crotch is at Harry’s face level. 

“You’re ridiculous,” Louis laughs as Harry pulls his red flannel pajama pants down. Harry licks his lips without realising it when Louis’ cock springs up.

Harry’s always been an excellent cock sucker. What he lacked in experience in the beginning, he made up with enthusiasm; now he has both vast experience and still so much enthusiasm. Louis find it almost impossible, sometimes, to even look at Harry’s plump lips that have been around him so hungrily, eagerly, sinfully. Harry is the dictionary example of what ‘sex on legs’ looks like – well, until he stumbles and falls impressively, at least. 

Louis is looking down at Harry, tongue swirling around the tip of his cock for a bit before pushing his mouth lower down, all while looking at Louis directly in the eye. 

“So good at this,” Louis strokes Harry’s hollow cheek with his thumb, at least imagining that he can feel himself inside Harry’s hot, wet mouth. “Made to do this babe, weren’t you?” 

Harry closes his eyes at the praise and Louis moves his hand to pet Harry’s hair, occasionally pulling a strand a little harder – causing Harry to moan around his cock, creating incredibly pleasurable vibrations all over Louis’ body – and pressing his head a bit further down, filling his mouth a little bit more. Harry splutters and moves his hand to stroke his own penis. Louis pulls on another strand of hair on Harry’s neck and then presses his head further down until Harry gags, and Louis comes. Harry follows soon after. 

Louis’ hand drops on Harry’s upper back, lazily caressing the silky skin there, as Harry’s wipes his come-covered hand onto the red pajama pants on the floor. He then wipes his lip with his thumb, holding it to Louis who gives the thumb one big lick, cleaning it. 

“Love you,” Louis whispers as Harry climbs back onto the sofa and they lie down in a cuddle, facing each other. 

“Love you back,” Harry smiles tiredly. He usually feels absolutely spent after sex, but now he feels even more exhausted. He can’t help but yawn. 

About an hour later, they slowly stir awake from having dozed off. 

“We need to talk about some stuff,” Harry whispers quietly as he’s tickling Louis’ nostrils with his hair. 

“Feed me first.” Louis yawns. “With actual food, this time.” 

They make grilled sandwiches for lunch, filling them with whatever they can find in the fridge. Harry has another go at the coffee, and to his delight, doesn’t feel too nauseous at the smell but manages to have a half a cup before his body decides it’s quite enough of joy, now. 

Both of their phones beep at the same time, marking an email received. Louis picks up his, and reads the message out loud. It’s from their management, reminding them of the world tour about to start in a month’s time, and making it understood that there needs to be tour practice, and soon. Louis feels rebellious with the way he reads the message in a drawn-out impression, making Harry laugh. 

“That’s what I wanted to talk about, really,” Harry says as he starts peeling a banana. He never gets tired of telling Louis how it’s supposed to be peeled from the other end, not from the long nub, but Louis never understands the reasoning behind it as Harry’s peeling always seems to take ages and end in a mess. “About the tour and stuff.” 

“Alright then,” Louis takes another banana from the fruit bowl and peels it normally, breaking the tip and throwing it to his mouth whilst Harry is still struggling with his. He looks at Harry challengingly. 

Rolling his eyes and turning the banana around, peeling it with no problem, Harry starts. “We need to figure out when we want to tell people, and like who do we want to tell and when, and like… With the tour, and with the boys, and…” Harry looks hesitant for a bit. 

“With the world,” Louis nods. “Coming out and that.” 

“And that,” Harry agrees. “I think… It’d be better, probably, to come out first, and then do the baby news after and not like… Be out with them all at the same time.”

“Agreed. I want…” Louis searches for words. “I don’t want it to seem like, we got pregnant accidentally and are now forced to come out, but like… I want it to seem like we wanted to share us with the world, and then like… Got pregnant.”

Harry munches his banana for a while and then swallows loudly. “I don’t want it to seem like how it actually happened, either. Like I don’t… Want the world to see our kid as the accident forever. Or for them to ever feel like they were.” Harry looks at Louis, eyes a bit uncertain. 

Louis reaches out his hand across the table and Harry takes it. “Yeah. We’re having a baby, we wanted the baby and we’ll always love the baby, that’s all anyone needs to know.”

“I also don’t… Really want to tell anyone, not yet. It’s so early and I want to… Just keep this for us, just you and me, for a while.” 

“Not even the mum squad?” 

“No, I… They’re our mums, Lou. They’ll be unbearable with fussing anyway, and I want… I just want to make sure everything is fine with the little one, before we tell anyone. Like, it’ll be public property soon anyway so I just want to have this, for us, for a little bit longer.” 

Louis can feel the corners of his mouth turn upwards, with his heart skipping a beat or two at feeling so full. “Just for us now.” 

Harry’s nose scrunches in an affectionate gesture. “But I don’t know what to do with the tour, like, we’ll tell our nearest and dearest like before the tour, probably including the boys and Lou and that lot, and I think I can do like South America and Europe easily, but…” 

Louis gets up to pick up his Mac from the living room, opening it as he walks into the kitchen. He opens the tour schedule document, googles ‘flying when pregnant’, and opens the NHS healthcare page. He picks a piece of paper from a drawer together with a pen.

“Right, so… We start at the end of April. ” Louis chews the pen absentmindedly. “The US bit starts the first of August, and then it’s on until… October.” He puts the pen away and looks at Harry, pondering. “How far along are you know, what do you reckon?” 

Harry looks down at his stomach and pats it. “Hey love, how long have you been there?” He waits as if the baby were to give him a sign of some sorts. It doesn’t. He looks back at Louis and shrugs his shoulders. 

“Right. It’s like, mid-March now, and we were up in Donny in like, early February?” 

“Mid-February.” 

“Oh yeah, and then the pillgate happened, so I guess you’re like… One month?” 

“Did you hear that, Little Wonder? You’re probably about one month old!” Harry tells his tummy happily, and then bites his lip. “I guess what we really need is to see a doctor, though.” 

“Oh yeh definitely, got the NHS page open right here.” Louis is scribbling down months onto a piece of paper. 

“Lou…” Harry’s voice sounds perplexed. “I’m not… I’m not going to go to public healthcare.”

“What? The NHS is brilliant for pregnancies! You’ve seen my mum, that’s the kind of people who work there!” Louis can feel his voice rising a bit. There’s nothing wrong with public health service, and if Harry thinks he’s too posh for NHS, maybe he’s too posh to push, like he’s not actually the posh boy everyone…

“Louis.” Harry’s voice stops his train of thought speeding forward. “It’s not that, at all. But, like, I can’t really go to the nearest public GP and risk being seen, or someone leaking the documents, or babbling on.” 

Ah, right. Of course. Louis feels more than a little daft. 

“Right, of course you can’t. Sorry.” He looks at his laptop screen and then his phone, and realises he has no fucking idea how to get in touch with a super discrete doctor or how to go on with any of this, really. 

“I don’t know how to do any of this,” Harry says solemnly. “How to keep this under wraps and get what we need. Or how to even start like, coming out and stuff. We’ll piss off so many people, Lou.” 

“So many people can piss right off, then. Okay, I haven’t a clue either. Pick your favourite then, I guess.” Louis nods towards his phone, hoping Harry gets what he means. 

Harry rubs his temples for a bit. “Kim, I choose you.” He finally says in a dramatic voice. He could go with his PA, who is absolutely lovely, but somehow having someone higher up in the know, feels more secure.

Kim’s the perfect choice, out of all the heels in their management and label – she’s a friend, reliable and resourceful, and based on how much she screams through the speaker phone when they confide in her with the news, quite excited and happy for them. 

She’s also able to get them an appointment with a doctor specialised in male pregnancies, and with a high profile clientele, for the following day. All she wants as a thank you is to come with them and to call dibs on godmother duties. 

\--

Harry’s feeling a little overwhelmed, sitting on their bed with colourful pamphlets and vitamin bottles scattered around him. Seeing the doctor had made all of this more real. For the few awful, nightmare days after they’d done the test which now feel like a dark blur in Harry’s head, and then the few glorious days after they’d decided to keep the baby – and with the mesmerising, unreal happiness that sort of contagiously spread between him and Louis, it still had felt much like a dream. 

But now it’s real. It’s not just for him and Louis anymore; Kim knows and their doctor knows. Harry has a few vitamins he’s supposed to start taking daily, he’s been given a pile of brochures, each of which pretty much require for them to make a decision. What sort of a birth do they want, where do they want to do it, are they going to do this or that and… It’s a lot. 

“You could participate a bit, you know,” Harry places a hand on his stomach as he speaks. “Me and your dad are trying to do our best for you, but I don’t know, little one. Do you want to be born in water? Am I fucking you up if I take gas? Are you traumatised more by hysterical laughing or mad screaming?”

The baby, again, says nothing and Harry sighs, patting his tum. “You’re getting off too easy on this, kid.”

“Ah, I see you’re already using the best parent-card there is,” Louis says amusedly as he falls down on the bed, still a little wet from the shower. “The guilt tripping card. Can’t wait to pass it forward, my mum’s been using it forever.” 

“As has mine. I think it comes with the territory, really.” 

“Mm-hmm.” Louis takes a pamphlet advertising different antenatal courses. “We’ll be taking all of these, right?” He waves the piece of paper to Harry.

“Hell yes,” Harry chuckles. “I have no idea how to have a baby.” 

“You’re amazing with kids, though.” 

“Lucky we both are,” Harry leans to peck Louis’ cheek. “But being able to amuse kids is not the same as knowing how to carry one for like, nine months and then pop it out and then take care of it for life. You’ve seen our plants, Lou. None of them ever get to see their one week birthday. We kill everything that lives.” 

“Or break them.” 

Harry grimaces, remembering how last tour, the five of them had decided to take up a challenge where they’d each look after a raw egg, as if it were a baby – the whole thing was probably inspired by an American high school movie of some sorts. Harry had dropped his egg as soon as it was placed in his hand, and Louis’ had been crushed during a pre-gig fumble on the same evening. 

“…At least babies are bigger than eggs,” Louis offers, reliving the same embarrassing account of their prior parenting skills. “Can we do this, Haz?” His voice sounds a bit high. “Like, be honest with me. Are we going to be ok, as parents? Not fuck our kid up. Or lose it. Or break it. Or, I don’t know, damage for life. What if they escape when they’re three? And get lost somewhere and then it’s ten in the evening and the police...” 

“Shush.” Harry puts a finger on Louis’ lips to shut his panic up. “We’ll be fine. Amazing, even. We just, haven’t done this before. But we’ll learn.” 

Louis closes his eyes tightly and opens them again. “Ok. Yeah, no, you’re right. We’re a dream team. This is just a new… skill, that we’re learning, I guess.” 

“Exactly,” Harry pats Louis’ cheek. “And the doctor was nice.” 

The doctor had been excellent, a middle-aged lady with freckles and eccentric beads in rainbow colours and a bright red hair. She’d convinced them very quickly of being not only reliable but also totally professional,and also rather kind. It clearly wasn’t the first time she’d seen celebrities, young and lost with a bun in the oven. She’d also told them as much.

“Can’t believe we’re having a Halloween baby,” Harry suddenly groans annoyed again. “Wee witch, you are,” he pokes his stomach. 

“Ah not this again,” Louis grabs Harry’s hand. “Fourth of November is not Halloween.” 

“But it’d be just our luck they’d come on Halloween, though! I don’t want the baby to be born to a scary dumb celebration.” 

“Harold,” Louis tries sternly. “You heard the doc, she said firstborns are usually overdue.” 

“Ours won’t be,” Harry pouts. “Watch it.” 

“Fine,” Louis huffs. “I’ll bet you.” 

Harry raises his eyebrow. “For what?” 

“I’ll, uhm, let’s say I’ll do the night feedings for the first full month!”

Harry lets out a laugh. “Oh, with what? Are you going to breastfeed as well? This is a plot twist.”

“Ah shit, right. Ok, the loser gets to be in poop nappy duty for the first week.” 

“Week? You offered a month first.” 

“It’s shit, babe. A week’s enough.” 

“Deal. I say the baby’s born on Halloween.” 

“And I say it’s overdue. With a week. So eleventh of November. Eleven eleven.” 

“Easy to remember, at least,” Harry nods. “Except you’ll lose. You’re on, Tomlinson. Get ready for piles of baby poop.” They shake their hands on it. 

A little while later, cuddling under covers, Louis asks Harry how he felt about the rest of the day. 

They’d touched briefly on the subject of how to proceed with the coming out with Kim. There wasn’t much they could settle with, not without the involvement of higher-ups and the band, which wasn’t something neither Harry or Louis, nor Kim for that matter, wanted to do immediately. The doctor had said that if everything was going fine with the pregnancy, there was no reason why Harry couldn’t do the tour for the first parts if he were just careful and rested a lot, and even some dates in August in North America still. 

“And with the plans of making another record after the tour, like, that we can do pretty easily if it’s not on tour. Like, record it in London and do writing, the baby will just tag along. Lou did that with Lux fine.” 

“I’ll probably have epic songs to write after the birth.” Harry’s decidedly not thinking about the actual birth for the next about eight months. “I love you, I hate you, your dad doesn’t want me anymore, thanks for all the bits you tore.” 

“What a hit,” Louis laughs and pinches Harry’s bum. “But lies. I‘ll always want you.” 

“I’ll be a whale, Lou.” 

“Whales are adorable.” 

“Whales are huge, that’s what they are. Also not sure this is the kind of animal friendliness I’m happy with.” 

\--

Harry’s already kicked off his shoes, taken off his coat, put his hair up on a bun and taken it down as it was stretching his scalp tremendously. The air con is blasting cold air full on, and Louis has told him off twice for still having opened the window. He’s had a bag of Haribos, realised he hates sour candy, turned sour because he hadn’t bought better candy, and whined about every single song on every radio station being annoying, yet when Louis turned the radio off completely, the silence managed to hurt Harry’s ears as well. 

“Has your stupid hometown always been this fucking far?” Harry groans as he’s trying to find a comfortable position on the front seat of the car, but his stupidly long legs seem to not fit anywhere. He briefly considers chopping them off, but realises there’s no tools for chopping, so he’d probably have to chew them off, and that seems like a slow process. 

“Oi! Don’t take this out on Donny!” 

“I’m taking this out on you. All your fault, really.”

“How is this my fault? I told you not to chump down a bag of candy you hate.” Louis is relieved to see a sign saying it’s only ten more miles to Doncaster. It’s been a very long ride.

“Not that,” Harry huffs. “But this!” He points his index fingers to his stomach. “You put this in me.”

“Fine, sorry, I apologise for ever having sex with you,” Louis says lightly as he changes lanes. “Will never happen again.” 

“Good.” Harry huffs some more and twists and turns on the seat. “Can you pull over?” 

Louis immediately puts the indicator on. “Why, you feeling sick?” 

“No, just want to go to the backseat.” 

Louis has things to say but decides against them. They stop on the side of the road, Harry rummaging through the boot of the car, whining about not having any pillows with them – reasonable, really, it’s not like they’re going to stay in a fully functioning and lived-in family home after all. Luckily he realises to fold his thick winter coat to a square and place it under his head as a faux pillow, and somehow settles on the back seat for the last moments of the trip. Louis makes a mental note to stock the car, all of their cars actually, with pillows from now on. 

Parking the car on his mum’s drive and carefully waking up Harry who looks exhausted as he rubs his eyes, Louis unloads the boot, making sure the different pieces making up his mum’s birthday present have all stayed in the gift bag. He suddenly feels arms wrap around him from behind. 

“I’m sorry,” Harry says quietly and kisses his neck. “I’m being so cranky, I know. I just hurt all over."

Louis takes Harry’s hand and lifts it to his lips, kissing it. “I know, love. Don’t know how I could help you.” 

“You could take this child for a while?” 

“Ok,” Louis turns around and bumps their stomachs together. “All mine now.” 

Harry laughs and nuzzles his nose against Louis’. “Thank you. Want it back at some point, though. You can keep them until we’re home again, though, that car ride was hell.” 

“Which part of it? The constant stops to pee or the constant bitching or the…” 

Harry slaps Louis’ arm lightly. “The idiot driving the car, that was the worst bit.” 

The weekend is lovely. Louis’ extended family has all arrived for Jay’s birthday and to formally celebrate the twins’ arrival. Louis feels his heart burst every time he and Harry are holding the twins, still so small but also so much bigger than the last time they saw them. They feel… more human, now, not just a plop of cells that looks like a doll but is supposedly a human being. 

They’re sitting on the sofa, Ernest asleep on Harry’s lap and Doris fighting sleep on Louis’, with her little eyelids dropping down and being lifted again. Louis stretches his leg so he can poke Harry’s thigh to get his attention off of staring at Ernest and how his little hand is tightly wrapped around his finger. Harry lifts his head and Louis looks aroun quickly, to make sure they’re alone. 

“Can you believe? We’ll have one of these soon.” 

Harry smiles and looks back at Ernest, shaking his head a little. “Do you think it’ll be a boy or a girl?” 

“I don’t care, really, as long as they’re healthy. Happy.” Louis watches Doris finally close her eyes and fall asleep. “What do you think?” 

“I don’t care, either. I don’t know if we should even find out, if I’m honest. Like… It doesn’t matter.” 

“Yeah,” Louis strokes Doris’ cheek very lightly with his pinky. “Let’s not find out.” 

“I hope they have your blue eyes,” Harry says dreamily. 

“And your dimples. And curls.”

“Not my emerald green eyes?” Harry makes his eyes look ridiculously big and Louis laughs. 

“The next one can have that. This first one already has your hair and dimples, let me pass on the eyes.” 

Harry startles a little at such a natural mention of another child, he doesn’t think Louis notices. It’s… something he hasn’t really thought of, but it’s a lovely, likely thought. That this is their first child, and eventually there will be more, little siblings. He’s always been the little brother and Louis has always been the big brother, and he feels an added affection thinking about the little one growing inside him right now, growing up to be a brilliant big sibling. 

Saying farewell is always a bit of a sad occasion, and though they know they’ll still see both of their families for a pre-tour dinner in London quite soon, Louis and Harry make sure to hug everyone extra tight as they get ready to drive home on Sunday evening. Evenings are getting lighter now, and the weather is warming up. 

“I’ll walk you to the car,” Dan offers and picks up one of the duffel bags from the hallway. Louis takes the other as Harry’s waiting for Jay to pack up some sausage rolls and leftover cake for snacks for their trip. 

“So,” Dan starts conversationally as he shuts the boot and in a weirdly universal fatherly manner slaps it a few times to ensure it’s closed. “How have you been?” 

Louis takes a look at the door, sees Harry’s head now in the kitchen and figures he’s still going to pop to the loo before they’re off, so he lights a cigarette. He’s been very good with cutting down on his smoking a lot since they found out, and this is his first one today and – based on their journey here, he might need all the nerve calming he can before he’s locked up in a car with demon preggo. 

“Mate, we just spent the weekend together,” Louis chuckles, “a bit redundant to have small talk now.” 

“Right,” Dan nods and weighs his words. “How’s Harry been, then?” 

Louis gets a weird feeling and he stares at Dan as he puffs smoke out. “Fiiine.” 

“Good, good.” Dan looks like he’s dying to say something but doesn’t know how to. 

“Are you… okay?” 

Dan turns to look at Louis, and steps a little closer so he can lower his voice. “Listen, Louis, I’m not going to beat around the bush, you and I have never had the need to.” 

Louis takes a look at the door, sees no movement and nods to Dan as a gesture for him to continue. 

“Harry’s pregnant, isn’t he?” 

Louis can feel the blood drain from his face as he accidentally drops the cigarette to the ground, and stubs it to play time. “I… Why…” He looks up at Dan and makes a decision. “How did you know?” 

Dan lets out a relieved sigh, both for the bomb to have now been dropped and also for being right with his suspicion. “Just a gut feeling. The way you look at him.” 

“How’s that?” 

“Louis. My partner was just pregnant as well, as you might know. There’s a specific way you look at a person you love who's carrying your child, and I know that look. I had that look. And this weekend, you have had that look.” 

Louis can’t even deny it; hell, he feels like he’s looking at Harry through heartshaped glasses most of the time. It’s the love of his life, carrying something so precious and small inside him, and he feels like bursting most of the time. 

Dan wraps him in a big bear hug. “I mean, congrats! It’s absolutely brilliant. Nothing quite like becoming a dad.” 

“Whose becoming a dad?” Harry’s suspicious voice asks as he comes to the car with a Tupperware on his hand. 

Louis doesn’t have a chance to reply as Dan pulls Harry to the hug as well. “I know, Harry. So happy for you lads.” 

Harry’s eyes meet Louis. They’re beaming. “Thanks, Dan. We’re really happy.” 

“When are you due?” Dan asks as he unwraps them from the hug. 

“Halloween,” Harry says at the same time as Louis says “Eleventh of November.” 

Dan cracks up laughing. “Alright, I see. What did you bet on?” 

“Nappy duty.” 

“I see,” Dan winks. “We were going to, too, but with two on the way, not much point is it?” 

All three of them laugh, until Harry remembers. “Listen, Dan, we haven’t told anyone yet and we kind of want to keep this a secret a little while longer."

“Sure, sure, I get it. My lips are sealed,” Dan gestures on zipping his lips shut and throwing away the key. 

“Thanks man, really appreciate it,” Louis hugs Dan again and after Harry’s done the same, they wave their goodbyes and hit the road. 

“How did he guess?” Harry wonders out loud as the house gets further away in the reversing mirror and finally disappears completely. 

“Apparently from the way I look at you.” 

Harry glances at Louis but doesn’t say anything. He is, however, on his very best behaviour all the way down to London, regardless of his achy feet. 

\--

“I knew we’d be embarrassing parents,” Harry’s laughing through his tears. “Poor child.” 

They’ve now listened to the audio for the fourth time today, excluding the first time they heard it at the ultrasound scan appointment earlier this morning. They’re trying to get the dinner ready, for when their families are coming over tonight for a traditional pre-gig gathering, but they’re so behind on schedule as every once in a while, either of them wanders off to the polaroid wall to stare at the ultrasound picture, or suggests that maybe they should listen to the heartbeat audio one last time. 

“Shut up, here comes the best part,” Louis lifts his finger up. The heart beat on the recording reaches the strongest few beats, and on the background, some sniffling can be heard. 

“Can’t believe we both cried,” Harry wipes his eyes. “Or asked to record the whole thing.” 

“Or ask to get multiple copies of the picture.” 

Harry shakes his head. “Embarrassing,” and he doesn’t mean it at all, not really. They’ve met their child for the first time today, as much as they currently can. It was barely the size of a pea, and though Louis is convinced it looks exactly like both of them, Harry isn’t sure either of them can actually even spot the plop on the ultrasound picture. They’re ecstatic and overwhelmed, regardless. Harry can’t get over how something inside him has its own heartbeat; that there’s such a little creature in him that it’s barely the size of tiny vegetable, yet has a little beating heart. 

He coughs to stop a new wave of happy tears. “Right. Dinner.” He claps his hands. “Can you deal with the meat and I’ll do the potatoes and veg? And when they’re cooking, I can do the trifle.” 

“Sounds like a plan,” Louis agrees and then puts his hand on Harry’s arm. “Babe. It’ll be fine. I’m nervous too, but it’ll be fine. We planned it perfectly.” 

Nothing, of course, goes to plan. The dinner itself is great. Harry and Louis had managed to cook everything and set the table in the conservatory with more effort than usual. The master plan had been that after pudding, Harry would randomly (how lucky he was known to be a random person anyway) lead the gang to the polaroid wall, let them take a while to spot the ultrasound pic, whilst Louis would hook up his phone to a speaker so the room would then be filled with the heartbeat sound. Harry and Louis had great fun, only a little emotional, plotting the grand reveal and imagining the candle-lit room and the sound – which they naturally just had to listen to again – filling the room. 

But it turned out Anne and Jay had been a bit generous with the wine, Robin had been up to Highlands for a whiskey distillery trip and just had to offer some souvenirs for Dan, who kept winking at Harry and Louis not so sneakily to the point where Fizzy kept demanding to know what was this weird winking. Phoebe and Daisy were bickering all night and eventually ended up rolling on the floor, Daisy accidentally hitting Harry in his crotch as he’d been trying to separate them. Louis had lashed out at the girls maybe a bit too loudly, which had caused Daisy to lock herself to the downstairs bathroom to mope. Gemma had been on her phone with some new potential bloke most of the evening, and Lottie had been sipping her mum’s wine whenever her eyes averted. 

“It’s a jungle here,” Louis tells Harry gloomily. “We’ll never be able to gather the troops.” 

Harry’s about to say something when a high-pitched yell comes from the direction of the kitchen. All chatter and rowdiness comes to a stand still. 

Anne rushes to the conservatory, an unopened red wine and a corkscrew on her other hand, waving a polaroid on the other. “What is this?” 

She shows the picture to the whole room, rushing over to Jay then and pushing it right on her face. “Is this what I think it is? I’m tipsy, sorry darling, is this an art photo or is this…” 

“A baby!” Jay shrieks and gets up, her chair falling down. “Are you having a baby?” 

Nine pairs of eyes are now staring at Harry and Louis. One of the smaller twins has woken up in the downstairs guest room and is crying loudly. 

“Well?” Lottie raises her eyebrow. “Am I going to be an aunt?” 

Harry and Louis exchange a look. “Yes,” Harry lets out a happy sigh. “You’ll all be aunties and nans and grandads. And one uncle,” he ads as an afterthought and looked to the vague direction of where he knew Ernest was. 

There’s a rush of people coming towards Harry and Louis, hands wrapping them in tight hugs everywhere and cheery noises as they all gathered around them in a huge pile of people cheering. 

Alone on the table, Daisy starts sobbing loudly. “I’m so sorry I hit you, Harry. Did I hurt the baby?” 

Harry detangles himself from the middle of the crowd and goes to Daisy, leaning down and running his hand down her hair. “No, don’t worry, Daisyboo. The baby is still very small and well protected. No harm done.” 

“How small is it? When are you due?” 

“Early November,” Harry says as he stands up after giving a cuddle to Daisy, who’s luckily calming down. “I’m just over eight weeks now.”

Harry sees Anne and Jay exchange a look. “That long? And you’re only telling us now?” 

“Sorry, mums, we did want to tell you earlier but… we just, wanted to make everything was safe and ok. And to be able to show you a picture. And this,” Louis goes to connect his phone to the speaker and the steady beating sound fills the room. Only live sound is Anne, or Jay, or probably both letting out sounds of gushing. 

After the recording ends, Gemma suddenly springs to life. “Oh fuck you both! You were never actually pranking Liam, were you?”


	3. Second trimester

If Harry really tries, and maybe also bends his back and pushes his stomach out, he might see a little swell starting to form. He stretches his body ridiculously, placing hands above his hip bones as if to cradle a teeny tiny bump, but then decides he has to stop being ridiculous now as he’s about to become a parent, and relaxes his back and stomach. All in good time. 

“Bit too early for that, love, no?” 

Harry takes a quick look at Louis who’s looking at him stand on his underwear in front of their bedroom mirror, with an adoring smile on his face. Harry turns back to look at his own reflection in the mirror. 

“Only by a few months, I think.” 

“Wish you were a cat.” 

Harry frowns at Louis through the mirror. “This animal thing is really getting out of hands, Lou. This isn’t a sympathy pregnancy symptom I’ve ever heard of.” 

Louis chuckles. “Nah, just meant that cats are only preggo for like three months. If you were a cat, we’d be a trio act in no time.” 

“Meow,” Harry licks his hands and brushes his hair. Louis isn’t sure if he’s worried, endeared or slightly turned on.

“Did you know that apparently elephants, on the other hand, carry the wee ones for like two years?” 

Harry shivers at the thought. “Hard pass. I reckon nine months is just about what I can do.” He thinks for a bit. “Though I don’t know if I have the patience for even that, it’s been three months and I’m so over this already.”

“Alright,” Louis has his reasonable-though-you-are-ridiculous voice on which Harry is only too familiar with. “What’s the plan, then?” 

“What plan?” 

“If you can’t do nine months.” 

Harry huffs. “Give it to you, of course. Duh.” 

“Duh.” Louis rolls his eyes. “Silly me for even asking.” 

“The silliest,” Harry walks over to Louis and buries his head onto his neck, kissing the skin. “Do you think if I actually looked like I’m expecting, the lads would be less likely to beat me up?” 

Oh, right. That’s what they’re doing today. The meeting might be masked as tour planning meetup, but it’s really to… Tell their band the happy news. 

“They’re not going to beat you up, love. They know I’d jump on them, and no one can beat your baby daddy.”

“Eugh, Lou,” Harry shoves Louis away. “Keep the animal talk, but never ever refer to yourself as a baby daddy again. Seriously, baby daddy…” He shakes his head as he picks up his Nike joggers and a white tee full of tiny holes from the bed, putting them on. “I know we’re fabulous but we’re not that kind of fabulous.” Harry snaps his fingers from side to side in a Z formation, only to see Louis has had the same thought and he can’t help but crack up. 

“You’re the worst,” Harry laughs light-heartedly and kisses Louis’ forehead. “Love you.” 

“Love you too. And you,” Louis tells Harry’s stomach and bends down to kiss it lightly. “Are you sure we can’t go together?” 

“No, Lou, we went over this already. You’ll go with your car and I’ll go with mine, an acceptable time between our arrivals. It’s still the same shitty song and dance, for now.”

“I just… Haven’t been away from you two yet. It feels…”

“I know. I’ll drive super safe. I’m a big boy. And so are you. You’ll manage.” 

\--

After telling their actual biological family, the natural follow-up was to tell their pseudo-family next – the band boys. They’re brothers, really, and of course they want to share the life-changing news with them. Harry knows they’ll eventually be happy for them, probably get into ridiculous arguments over who gets to be the favourite uncle (Niall probably) and so on, but he’s also in a bit of a panic as he’s driving to the rehearsal space. 

“I love you,” he tells Little Wonder as he’s about to park his car. “And the boys will too, very much. Just… Your arrival is a huge thing, bigger than your dad and me, so you mighthear words today I would rather you don’t listen to.” He places his hands on his non-existent bump and closes his eyes, breathing deeply a few times. “We can do this, little love.” 

Harry gets out of his car, waves to a few fans who somehow magically have known to arrive and are now yelling and waving their phones on the other side of the metallic fence. Liam, Zayn and Louis are by the door having a smoke, and Harry hugs Liam and Zayn quickly – the fans’ yells get higher and louder – and looks at Louis quickly. He’d rather not risk anything yet, before they figure out how the hell to work this out, so he just nods and tries to slap his back in a very brotherly way (Harry hopes). The yells get even louder as he shuts the thick door behind him, going to find Niall.

“Hello, Neil,” Harry goes to hug Niall who’s lounging on a run-down brown leather sofa, eating a packet of beef-flavour crisps. 

“Hiya, Henrietta,” Niall hugs Harry back. “Though I’ve actually been thinking changing Henrietta to Debbie.” 

“Why’s that?” Harry picks up a few crisps from the bag, stuffing them all into his mouth at the same time. Salt and grease and beef flavouring might be his new craving; it’s fucking delicious. 

“For Debbie Harry, you know. She’s got way bigger balls than you, mind, but I think you’d make a good Debbie.” 

“Flattered,” Harry nods and reaches for a more crisps, which Niall allows and then pulls the bag away and hides it under his bum. “Happy to be a Debbie for you.” 

“Sweet,” Niall looks genuinely delighted. “How’s things otherwise?” 

“Good,” Harry says with a full mouth of crisps and then swallows. “Looking forward for the tour and that.”

Niall takes a long look at Harry, squinting his eyes. “Alright, what’s going on, Debs?”

“Nothing,” Harry feigns innocence. “Just said I’m excited for the tour. Being Irish doesn’t make you psychic or mystic, stop it.” 

Niall taps his nose and then points the finger at Harry, but says nothing more. Harry takes a seat next to him, yawning. He’s had a nap today already, but somehow the nerves and worry of how the lads will react is making him exhausted. And really in need of the loo, again. He gets up, groaning, practically feeling Niall’s eyes follow him to the toilet. 

By the time he’s back, all four of them are gathered on and around the sofa. It’s nice to have some privacy; as much as their management sucks, it’s been nice for the last few tours and albums to at least have a fake sense of having a say. The five of them would usually meet up first, deciding and brainstorming on what they’d want to do, and then let management and label know, and have it all shut down. But at least they always have one meeting where they can pretend that this is all about them. 

“No, what I mean is that we should probably cut down the covers, I don’t know if there’s really…” 

“But the fans love the covers!” 

“But they love our stuff, too. Stuff we’ve got loads of, now.”

“I really don’t…” 

Harry sits down on the arm rest and nudges Louis’ shoulder with his, getting his attention off the conversation. Their eyes meet and Louis raises his brow, with a very faint nod towards the lads, and Harry gives a small nod. Without thinking, he places his hand on his stomach and strokes the fabric with his thumb a few times. He might be imagining it, but when he turns to look at his band mates, Niall seems to me observing him intently.

“Right, lads,” Louis claps his hand. “We need to talk about something.” 

“We just were?” Liam seems to think Louis is a bit of a tit. “We were literally just talking about something. You can’t interrupt a conversation to say that, that’s like what you use to fill a silence.” 

Louis stares at Liam for a bit, and decides to not be annoying. “Ok, Liam, so to put it more precisely, there’s something we need to talk about before we talk about anything else.” 

Harry tries his hardest to not look at Niall’s eyes, staring a hole through him. Or his stomach, he’s not sure. 

“Uhm,” Harry starts slowly. Louis puts a hand on his thigh, and it feels like warmth and courage is radiating to him. “We, uhm, me and Louis, we’re…”

Liam’s eyes go comically big and colour fades from his cheeks. “You guys didn’t break up, did you?” 

“No! For fuck’s sake Liam, that’s the most ridiculous thing ever. Of course we didn’t, we’re not the breaking up type,” Louis huffs. 

“No, this… This is kind of. Uhm. The contrary, really.”

“You got hitched?” Zayn guesses. “And didn’t invite us? Mate.” 

Harry automatically looks at his are ring finger. “Really think I’d get married without an enormous ring?” 

“Shut up everyone, let the man speak!” Niall raises his voice exasperatedly and as Harry’s eyes meet his and he winks, Harry knows for absolute certainty suddenly that Niall knows, and thus all Irish people must have psychic skills after all.

“We, uhm, shit.” Harry inhales, exhales deeply. “We’re having a baby.” 

His words are met with stunned silence. It’s a very different reaction to that of their families. Which, to be fair, Harry guessed it would be, but he’s not quite sure how to continue. The silence seems heavy, and waiting. 

Liam is the first to speak up. “I… Are you guys, like, adopting or…?”

“I’m pregnant.” 

Zayn whistles and Liam lets out a silent ‘fuck’. 

Harry looks at Louis, feeling lost, but all Louis has to offer him is an equally unsure and lost look. 

“For fuck’s sake, lads,” Niall then lets out and clampers over the boys on the sofa, putting his arms around Harry’s and Louis’ necks and giving a big, wet smack to both of their cheeks. “You’ll be absolutely-fucking-amazing parents. So chuffed for you. Congrats, chaps. And you,” he pokes at Harry’s stomach and Harry can’t help but smile, letting out a relieved sigh. It’ll be fine. He knew Niall would be the bestest. 

“Yeah,” Zayn pipes up hesitantly, “I mean… Cool. That’s really cool.” 

Liam stares at every one of them in turn, his mouth hanging slightly open. “What? No, this isn’t… When is it due?” 

“Early November,” Louis says and Harry knows that tone. It’s Louis’ defensive tone, when he’s ready to fight and not back down, but tries to remain calm and somewhat polite. 

Liam is calculating with his fingers. “So you’re… three months?” 

“Almost, yeh.” 

“And you’ll be… too pregnant when we’re supposed to finish the tour?” 

Zayn’s head snaps up from where he was staring at his fingers, sitting on the floor. 

Harry nods slowly. He’s starting to feel a bit cold, like a chill that isn’t physical, is spreading inside him. “I’d be eight months, yeh.” 

“So too pregnant.” 

“I mean, not necessarily….” 

“Come on Haz, no point beating around the bush.” Louis sounds a little fed up. “Yeah, he’ll be too pregnant to fly for like, most of September. And the doctor said, and you know what Harry’s like, he’s a bloody hazard, that doing concerts in August might be too dangerous as well.” 

“So what you’re saying is…” Zayn starts slowly.

“What they’re saying is that we have to cancel the fucking tour.” 

“Not the whole tour, just North America.” 

“No fucking way,” Liam laughs dryly and shakes his head so quickly Harry’s afraid his neck might injure. “Not cancelling the biggest bit, that’s where the money is, we just have…” 

“You’ll do those without us, then!” Louis voice is now snappy and rising higher. “He can’t fly. I’m not going to put my kid and my boy in danger for money. Or even for the fans, or even for you guys. We have to cancel or you can do them without us. This is not a fucking negotiation.” 

Harry’s known both Liam and Louis for long enough now to know what they look like when they’re seriously pissed off with each other – they look like they do now. Both have stood up and are facing each other, still a few feet between them, but they’re glaring daggers at each other. Harry wants to say something, do something, he hates that this is all really his fault and gosh, hopefully Little Wonder listened to him and isn’t picking up any of this. He opens his mouth to start to say something but a bout of nausea washes over him immediately and he rushes to the toilet. 

His morning/afternoon/evening sickness had gotten a lot better in the last week, so throwing up again feels more violent after having had a small respite. He’s hugging the toilet for about fifteen minutes, before he feels stable enough to try to get up. He puts his hand under the cold water tap and drinks a little, wiping the rest of the water on his burning up face. 

Niall is waiting outside the toilet door when Harry opens it, offering him a glass of coke and the remains of his crisps, which Harry gratefully accepts. 

Harry looks around the empty room. “Are they out killing each other now? Fans must be fucking loving it.”

“Nah, they went to the back door. Doubt anyone’s dying, after all. Liam looked horrified when you went to vom and asked if it was his fault, and if you guys couldn’t have been more careful, and then Louis went on a tirade of how he gets this is a shitty situation, and you were careful but it just happened, and you couldn’t really do anything else, and how this is also the most amazing thing for you guys blah blah blah.”

“Alright,” Harry hums. At least no one is dying. 

“Sorry Debs, I sorta tuned off when it became apparent it’d end happily. I think they’re out there now sorting it out.” 

“What do you mean, sorting it out?” Harry’s back to feeling alarmed. 

Niall shrugs. “Just, like, how to approach management and how much of a financial damage it’ll be, can we promise an album and a new tour, that sorta thing.” 

“Right, okay,” Harry looks at Niall, trying to figure him out. “You’re very chill about this.” 

“It is what it is, isn’t it? Nothing we can do but deal with it.” Niall burps. “I’m honestly happy to have some downtime. It’s been fucking brutal.”

Harry definitely agrees. 

“And like, I love you guys. I can’t think of anyone who deserves to have a kid more than you, like that wee one is the luckiest blob in the world, you know?” 

Harry can feel his eyes start to gather wetness. “Niall…” 

“Oh no, not pregnant feels!” Niall yells, but laughs at the same time and his attempts to sway away from Harry’s hug are rather half-hearted. “I mean, sure, it’ll be shitty for a bit, you guys need to figure out a lot of heavy stuff, and management and label will flip their arses, but like… You’re having a baby. That’s really all that matters, now.” 

Their long embrace is interrupted when the Louis, Liam and Zayn come back in. The atmosphere is still a bit reserved, but it doesn’t feel heavy anymore. Harry looks around the four familiar faces of people he absolutely loves, and decides that they can all be favourite uncles in their own way. 

\--

Things kick up a gear after that. The five of them put on a united front, so passionate in going hard for the cancellation in the heated meeting with management that Harry is reduced to embarrassing sobbing right there in the cold meeting room, out of feeling so emotional and touched by the support. They have to promise a replacement tour early the following year and a new album during it, together with reductions on their shares of the tour profits to make up the cancellation payments. But as they walk out the room, Liam impressively slamming the door shut so that the glass walls shake from the force of it, they’ve got a tour that finishes in Europe mid-July. They’ll also fill what was supposed to be a few weeks of holiday between Europe and US dates with carrying on working until the end of July, doing a few extra gigs in the biggest US cities. 

Harry and Louis invite them for a night in, with ordering a ridiculous amount of curry and cracking open quite a few bottles of bubbly – Louis considerately having bought alcohol-free for Harry – and Harry cooks up not only a luscious chocolate cake, but also two varieties of cookies. 

They have another meeting with the suits, just Louis and Harry. Kim comes with them, and is the star they both know she is. After much bargaining and a fair bit of threatening from Louis, they agree to end his stunt quietly immediately and start having Harry and Louis appear together. Harry puts his foot down so strongly it surprises himself – and Louis, by the look of the awe on his face – when he fights over not having any of this made into a public farce. They agree that after seeding the coming out rather obviously for a while, ensuring pap pics that leave little to question, they’ll put out a shared statement of having been together for a while now. The seeding will start immediately (apparently someone has just made a call so a pap will wait for them outside as they leave), pick up clarity during the South America tour, with a confirmation when European tour starts and then, as Harry will be showing by the beginning of July but apparently they can work around it, an announcement about the baby. An announcement they need to have approved but have free hands on how to do it. Harry feels like maybe he’s flying out of the offices; it’s all planned now, he knows what’s happening, everyone is on the same page. They’re having a baby and the world can know. It’s such a big, huge, magnificent thought that Harry can’t quite comprehend it’s really happening. 

The pap waiting outside luckily isn’t too near them, it’s supposed to look like actual pap pics with just enough blurriness to be vague, but clear enough to show that Harry and Louis left the offices and drove off in the same car. 

“I can’t wrap my head around it,” Louis lets out a shocked laugh. “We’re doing this. This is…” 

“Huge. And hugely frightening.”

“Yeah,” Louis sounds astonished. “Like, well have a baby, you and I are starting a family, and… And it’s not a secret. We are allowed to share it, share us.” 

“I don’t want to share too much, though,” Harry’s biting his lip. “Like, I don’t want everyone to… Pick us apart. We’ve talked about this, I just want us to have a normal family. Well, as much as we can.” 

“Me too. I don’t want to… Like, been there done that. Even if it was all fake and lies. But, this is real, this is the realest, and it’s not… for consuming.” 

“Yeah,” Harry smiles at Louis. They’re so in this together. “Can you drive through Nando’s? Your child demands chicken.” 

\--

“I got you a gift,” Louis sounds and looks excited as he’s digging his backbag. “Forgot to give it to you at home.” 

Harry’s sipping his caramel macchiato, thanking all higher powers for the existence of whipped cream and already making a mental list of things he could have whipped cream with. He wonders if he could ask for a cup of whipped cream to go; the too-long flight ahead seems like an impossibility if he doesn’t get to eat whipped cream at least half way over the Atlantic. He downs the rest of the coffee and swirls his finger around the inside of the cup as far as it can reach, licking all the excess cream off his finger. He is immensely grateful that their baby finally got on with the programme and is no longer averse to coffee. 

“Aha!” Louis sounds proud of himself as he’s holding something in his hand, giving it over to Harry.

“What is it?” Harry takes the packet. It’s a bit underwhelming, considering the usually prettily wrapped or otherwise creatively packed gifts he’s used to receiving from Louis. 

“Flight socks!” Louis says gleefully. 

Harry scrunches his face as he looks at the packet of white pair of flight socks with faint disgust. “Socks? You got me socks?” 

“Yeah,” Louis nods happily. “It’s a long flight and you don’t want swollen ankles, babe. Apparently it’s an especial risk when you’re pregnant. Hurtful and potentially dangerous.” 

“These are from Boots. Boots doesn’t sell Gucci.” 

Louis rolls his eyes. “Please, Harry High Maintenance. Neither your reputation nor ego will suffer permanent damage if you wear these, but your ankles might if you don’t.” 

Harry shoves the socks back to Louis’ backbag and stuffs them deep for emphasis. “No, but my self-respect will. Grannies wear flight socks. I’m not quite that yet. I don’t want them, I have some standards.” 

Louis gives him a look. “Haz, you know it’s not like… A sign of failing or anything.” 

“Don’t know what you mean.” Harry crosses his arms. 

“A lot of people are pregnant. And, like, being pregnant is a huge thing for your body, like of course things change. Helping out your body to deal with annoying stuff, which is temporary may I add, isn’t a sign of failing your pregnancy or anything.” 

Harry looks at him with a bored look and blinks slowly. “I have absolutely no idea what you’re saying.” 

Louis comeback is cut off by announcement that the plane is now ready for boarding. 

One of the nicer things about the approaching coming out is that they don’t need to sit separately anymore, or worse, fly separately. They bicker for a bit about who gets window and who gets the aisle seat, until Louis reasons – maybe it’s a slightly low blow but it’s not untrue, either – that he’s only going to get up twice if he has to take the aisle seat, no matter how many times an hour Harry needs the loo. 

A baby starts screaming right as they take off, somewhere nearby. Harry’s head snaps to see where the baby is – he hasn’t heard a baby cry ever since he found out he was expecting, and. It’s such a strange feeling, now, how normally a red-faced baby screaming on the top of their lungs would be a mild irritation but now, his first reaction is his heart sinking a little out of worry, and the immediate need to go comfort the baby. The empty feeling in his arms of not holding a baby right now is almost a physical itch. 

Zayn groans on his seat behind theirs and leans to talk to them through the space between their seats. 

“Your baby better not be like that, or you guys can just sit in economy forever.” 

“Pfft, our baby’s going to be a miracle. They can probably fly all by themselves.”

Harry’s attention is still focused on the screaming, but he nods. “It’s what little angels do, after all.” 

Zayn rolls his eyes and leans back on his seat, putting his headphones on. The screaming carries on, almost stopping a few times, only to pick up worse than before. 

“Is the mum not doing bloody anything?” Louis whispers to Harry, trying to look over his shoulder. “The fuck, she’s just there reading a book!” 

“Maybe she’s reading to the baby,” Harry starts unsurely, “I’m sure she’s doing what she can. Babies cry, and being this high must hurt the ears.” 

“No, Haz, like… She isn’t giving a shit.” Louis unbuckles his seat belt and starts to get up. 

“No, Lou!” Harry grabs his arm and pulls him back down. “You’re not going there.”

“I just… Like, someone should help the baby. It sounds panicky.” Louis looks around to make sure no one is looking at them and no one’s standing on the aisle, before he puts his hand on Harry’s stomach. “You’ll never have to feel panicky, Little Wonder. We’ll always be right here with you.” 

Harry puts his hand on top of Louis’ briefly when the mother of the baby loudly asks it to ‘shut up already’, getting offended looks from more people than just Louis and Harry. Harry stretches his legs under the seat in front of him and starts to pull his worn-out boot off with his other foot. 

“You’re not going to throw it, are you?” Louis looks genuinely worried. 

“No,” Harry huffs as he kicks the other boot off, too, and reaches down to pull his socks off, rotating his feet to stretch them. “Do you still have those damn socks?” 

\--

It’s amazing, being back on tour. Harry loves it almost more than anything else in the world; the nerves that hit just before he goes on stage, how everything then vanishes and he feels like nothing else exists in the world except the music, his band, their fans who keep yelling and showering them with love, and the amazing to awful signs. He’s so proud of their newest album, and it feels like the five of them are even closer than before – they have such a good time on stage every night, and they’ve never sounded better. Harry feels on top of the world, both on and off stage. They’re touring with the same crew as before, almost like their little travelling family of wild spirits. Harry has always enjoyed the hectic schedule, for the most part anyway, being on the road and eating in a random backstage room but with little bits and bobs that remind them of home always there, no matter the city. He loves being an absolute menace to Paul and trying to help the roadies assemble stuff, thought the knows he’s doing more harm than good but at least it’s a good laugh. 

Harry’s never felt better in any way, actually. He’s not sure if it’s because Little Wonder is truly their dads’ child and gets energy and happiness out of being on the road, or if it’s just normal biological progress. He’d read that the second trimester would be a lot easier than the first, and thank heavens, the constant nausea has ended. He rarely needs a nap, or at least no more than one per day, and he’s able to enjoy coffee again. Occasionally his back hurts a bit, but he’s used to it from before, and yoga helps. He quite thinks of himself as an almost supernatural creature who could do anything, because they’re filled with love (quite literally) and that fuels him. It feels like his energy has never been more vibrant, more prickling through his veins. The best part, however, is how incredibly close he feels to Louis right now. They’ve always lived in each other’s pockets, felt more like a unit than a couple made out of two people, but now… Harry often finds himself having gotten lost at just staring at Louis, doing something or even nothing, and feeling so grateful and happy to have him. To have created something so amazing together, and to be bonded to him in a very special way for the rest of infinity. He feels lucky that they can actually now interact on stage, he doubts he’d be able to contain himself and not hover in Louis’ proximity and see him laugh at his dumb jokes and maybe even exchange quick touches, at the emotional state he’s in. 

\--

It’s pitch dark outside when Harry wakes up. They’re in Rio de Janeiro, and it’s boiling in their hotel room. His hair is stuck to his forehead, to his neck, and Louis’ skin on his feels clammy. They’ve kicked the sheet to their feet but it’s still too hot to sleep. Harry looks at his phone; it’s barely three in the morning. He contemplates on stalking fans online - they’ve been going insane lately with the footage from the gigs of Harry and Louis being allowed to interact again; and, to be fair, stuff Harry’s has seen, even if he’s the one experiencing it, doesn’t leave much room for second guessing. He sends out a quiet thank you for their ever-supportive fans, and tries to mentally convey that they’ll pretty much explode in about a week’s time. However, he puts his phone down and turns to look at Louis. They have such different preferred sleep positions. Harry prefers to sleep on his stomach, which isn’t going to be possible for too long anymore. Louis usually curls up on his side, hand under his pillow and the other hand over Harry. Sometimes, like right now, he sleeps on his back, one arm bended above his head and the other stretched to the side, flopping over the side of the bed. Harry cuddles in closer and gently moves one of Louis’ hands down to his tummy, and then leaning over to carefully pick up the hand drooped over the side. It might be Louis’ favourite position to sleep in, but Harry knows his hands will feel painfully numb in the morning. 

“Boo,” Harry runs his fingers down Louis arm and squeezes his warm hand. “Wakey wakey.” He kisses Louis’ cheek. 

Louis stirs in his sleep and mumbles, turning to his side with his back to Harry. Harry leans to kiss his neck, then gives it a little lick to moisten the skin and blows air on it. Louis’ skin prickles. 

“Nngh.” 

“Wake up, Boo. It’s a beautiful morning.” 

“Too early,” Louis mumbles. 

“Louuuuis,” Harry drawls out and tickles under Louis’ arm. “Wake up with me.” 

Groaning, Louis opens his eyes and peeks over his shoulder. “You alright?” 

“Too hot to sleep.” 

“Funny,” Louis turns to look at Harry and stretches his arms up, “I was sleeping just fine.” 

Harry pouts and Louis boops his nose. “Let’s go swim.” 

“Swim?” 

“Yeah, make movements in the water.” 

“Oh fuck off,” Louis laughs hoarsely. “Where would we go swim?” 

“The rooftop.” 

“What rooftop?” 

“Of the hotel,” Harry twists Louis’ nipple. “Please come swim with me. Otherwise I’ll go alone and I’ll take your baby with me.” 

Harry had mentally prepared/hoped for to have to break into the rooftop to access the swimming pool, but the door leading there works fine with their key card. It’s so dark outside and the air is humid, but the pool has some nightlights planted on the sides and the water looks very blue. 

The first feel of water is refreshing, it’s heavenly. Harry lets out a satisfied sigh. “I love Brasil.” 

“Mm,” Louis moves closer to him, kissing his shoulder as they float together. 

“I’m going to have Brasil tattooed on me.” 

“Yeah?” Louis pulls Harry with him to the side of the pool and places his hands on Harry’s hips. “Where are you going to get it?” His hands move down Harry’s bum and then to his thighs, so he can lift Harry’s legs around his waist. 

“Right there,” Harry breathes as he wraps his arms and legs tighter around Louis, pressing his crotch to Louis’. “On my thigh.”

Louis traces his finger to form the word ‘Brasil’ on Harry’s thigh, and Harry can practically feel it make a permanent mark on his skin. “It’s going to be the first thing I do after labour.” 

“I thought the first thing you were going to do was eat a full block of camembert?” 

Harry licks his lips. “And have a glass of wine.” 

“You were talking about a bottle before.” 

“Followed with a smoke,” Harry nods and presses his pelvis closer to Louis’. “I guess the tattoo will be like a fourth thing, then.” 

Louis presses his forehead against Harry. “Fifth, I reckon. It’ll be at least two days before any of that happens, though, we’ll be too busy staring at our Little Wonder.” 

“And crying,” Harry smiles and kisses Louis. 

It starts softly, first, but soon gathers heat with wet tongues moving slowly, demandingly; Harry feels kissed to his toes, which curl up as Louis puts his hands back on his bum and presses him so close he can feel their cocks getting harder side by side. Louis breaks the kiss and runs his tongue down Harry’s throat, lifting him up so he can start lick down his collarbones. His thumb is massaging the tender skin around Harry’s nipple as his tongue circles the other nipple, and then Harry can feel the warmth of his mouth and sharp teeth around his nipple. 

“Ow,” Harry winces and pulls back. “Hurts.” 

Louis lifts his head and looks at Harry, concerned. “Good hurt?” 

“No, I…” Harry takes his hand from around Louis and puts his palms over his nipples, tentatively pressing down. “Hurt-hurts.” He hisses again and feels himself start to soften. He presses his fingers around the nipples, on his chest over the swallows and grimaces. 

“Maybe they’re starting to grow?” Louis looks at him astounded, and he’s definitely not softening down there. “Your titties.”

“Don’t call them that,” Harry laughs despite himself and puts his hands around Louis again, to hug him close. 

“Your boobies.” 

“You’re ridiculous,” Harry laughs and presses his cheek to Louis’. 

“You always talk about titties. I’m just paying attention.” 

“I think I’d prefer breasts now. At least, like, for when I’m… breastfeeding.” 

“Okay.” 

“Just feels a bit more… parental. We’ll go back to titties when they’re not used for nutrition anymore.” 

They stay in an embrace for a while, and then swim around lazily, enjoying the cool feel on their warm skin, stopping for kisses and splashing each other every once in a while. They don’t bother checking if there’s a security camera somewhere; any questionable footage about them frolicking around won’t make much of a difference soon. 

\--

The ticking is probably the loudest sound Louis has ever heard. The clock on the wall in their dressing room keeps ticking closer to the top, closer to the time their coming out statement is, well, coming out. It’s only about fifteen seconds anymore, and the ticking is so bloody loud, yet Louis feels like his breathing might actually now be louder. Harry, sitting next to him on the sofa, seems to have stopped breathing altogether. His hand fumbles around until it finds Harry’s, and he entwines their fingers. 

And then it’s 3PM, and the clock doesn’t stop. Louis stares at it for six more seconds to make sure it wasn’t a last dying tick as the world ended, but no. The clock keeps on ticking. Harry’s breathing again. There’s no angels singing, no flames, no violins. The world, apparently, didn’t end. He looks at Harry who also sees stunned that the world is carrying its existence. 

“We…” Louis is interrupted by his phone ringing. It’s his mum, who at first tries to contain herself and only sob a little, but then blabbers on fully in tears about how proud she is of him, of them, how she and Anne are planning on printing t-shirts that say ‘My grandchild’s dads ride rainbows’, or something similar. 

His older siblings want to talk to him as well, and after making sure Harry is alright with a yelling Lou currently dancing around him and throwing glitter around, he steps outside the dressing room. In the hallway, he almost falls over Liam, Zayn and Niall, who are all wearing rainbow-coloured lei’s. Liam gives him a quick hug and puts another lei on his neck, before they enter the dressing room. 

When Louis is done with the call and back to the dressing room, he’s met with Lou and the lads and some of their closer crew members toasting with champagne flutes (Of course I bought alcohol-free, don’t be daft, Lou sounds offended), the floor seems to glimmer in glitter, as does Harry’s hair. Harry, who has just popped his laptop on his lap and is chewing his nail. 

“Don’t do that,” Louis closes the laptop’s lid and pulls his finger off his mouth, as he walks to Harry. 

“I’m just going to quickly check…” 

“No, you’re not. We’ll do it later. Someone else can do it. Fans are over the moon, yeah, but there’s shitty nutters there too and we don’t need to know. Also stop chewing your nails.” 

“Fine,” Harry sighs resolutely and puts the laptop away, then turning to Louis, beaming. “Hi, official boyfriend.” 

“Hello, boyfriend.” Louis kisses Harry and Liam cheers loudly. 

The amount of rainbow flags in the crowd that night is higher than ever before. 

\--

It happens somewhere in Europe and Louis is on the other side of the stage when it does. Thank fuck it’s the last song of the gig. He was just jumping to Best Song Ever, they were all yelling the chorus and the crowd was bopping with them, when suddenly the crowd stops still and lets out a loud collective murmur of noise. Louis doesn’t get what’s happening, he keeps carrying on but soon realises that his voice is the only one he can hear. He stops and looks to the other side of the stage where he knows the other boys were. 

He only sees a lump of people hovering over something on the floor, it looks like a mess and he can’t make out what’s happening. He knows though, immediately, maybe it’s his fatherly instincts talking as he spurts to a run and gets to the group of people. It’s clearly Harry on the ground, he can see his booths peeking from the pile of people kneeling down and blocking his view. 

“MOVE!” He shoves people away to see Harry. He’s at least got his eyes open, there’s no signs of blood anywhere, his look is a little out of focus but he seems to be alive. 

Louis sees Liam make gesture to the sound booth with waving his hand over his throat, telling them to cut the mics off, and then shows the thumbs up when they have. 

“Haz, love, you okay?” Louis kneels down by Harry’s head and brushes a few strands of hair, not held back by his headscarf, away from his forehead. “Where does it hurt?” 

“Lou…” Harry tries to lift his head and winces. “My head.” His hand goes to the back of his head, quickly checking there’s no blood. 

“Nowhere else?” Louis adds hurriedly as he sees a medic approach them. 

Harry shakes his head. “I hit my head, I kept Little Wonder safe.” 

Louis mouths ‘I love you’ as a medic gently pushes him away to do a quick check-up on Harry so that he’s ok to be moved, then walking him to the side of the stage to check him more thoroughly. 

It takes about five minutes, if that, but to Louis it feels as if his life slowed down or probably even stopped for the time he spends watching Harry move his limbs and answer the medic’s questions. The medic moves his finger from side to side and up and down, then gives Harry a pill and pats his shoulder. Harry gets up from having sat down on top of a loudspeaker, stills for a bit as he looks a bit dizzy, but then puts on a charming smile and walks back to the centre of the stage. 

“He lives!” Liam yells excitedly and the crown breaks into an ear-bleeding cheer.

“Ah, how lucky, I was just running out of all my Irish drinking songs,” Niall says happily – and it’s only now that Louis realises the three lads had actually kept the fans entertained and engaged the whole time. 

“There’s no such thing as playing Whiskey in the Jar too many times, Niall,” Harry says and winks. “It’s alright, folks, I’m good, I’m fine! Hit my ego and left that on the floor, but I’m all good. Please do send all the material to anyone you like but not my mother. Here’s Whiskey in the Jar.” 

Turns out Harry has a concussion, not a severe one but a concussion all the same. He’s given strong painkillers and a strict order to not fall asleep in the next twelve or so hours, and then rest with someone watching over him for the following day, luckily not a concert day.

“A concussion!” Louis tries to lower his voice as they get to their hotel room. They’d decided to stay here for one more night, and travel tomorrow when it was deemed safe for Harry to close his eyes. “You have a bloody concussion!”

“God, Lou, calm down and stop yelling. I’m fine.” 

“You’re not fine, you have a concussion! You hit your head and your brain moved. What the fuck were you thinking, walking on that barrier?” 

“I’ve done it before, it’s always been fine before!” 

“This isn’t like before, Harry, not anymore. You fucking have to stop doing dumb shit like this.” 

Harry crosses his arms and raises his jaw a little. “Excuse me?” 

“You know!” Louis gestures his hands vaguely around Harry’s middle. “You’re a hazard on a best day. You can’t climb and jump and stuff like before. This isn’t about you anymore, you have to get that through your thick head.”

Harry bites his lip and cocks his head. “What’s that supposed to mean, Lewis? What exactly are you implying?” 

Louis sits down on the bed and droops his head to his hands, then looking at Harry. “You’re not a singular being anymore, Haz. You have to be a bit more careful.”

“So, what? You’re saying I don’t know how to protect our baby? Keep it safe?” 

“No, that’s not… You’re doing amazingly, love. I just, I know maybe you don’t realise it that much yet, like you don’t have a huge bump yet to remind you, but you just… Just be careful. More careful than you already are.”

Harry looks at Louis and his lips start trembling. He kneels down in front of Louis and rests his head on Louis’ knee. “I got so scared, Lou,” he admits as Louis pets his hair. “I knew the baby wasn’t hurt but… I was so scared.” 

“Me too.” Louis kisses Harry’s head. “But we got out of it fine. Just promise me you’ll be less… Rockstar from now on, yeh?” 

“Yeah,” Harry sniffs, “I promise.” 

“I don’t… Like I don’t know how to even describe how I feel about you, and our little one. It’s so overwhelming, looking at you, and knowing there’s a baby inside you, and I just… Want to give absolutely everything I have to keep you two safe. And I wasn’t able to do that today.” 

“Wasn’t your fault.” 

“I know, I know that but… You two are the world to me. I want to keep you both safe.” 

“I know,” Harry presses a kiss on Louis’ jeans clad knee. “You’re doing such a good job, and we love you so much for it, and…” 

Suddenly a strange expression pass Harry’s face as he lifts his head from where it was resting on his knee and puts a hand on his tummy. 

“Haz? You okay?” 

“Yeah, I… Oh.” Harry looks down at his stomach and then sits up straighter, lifting his shirt, taking Louis’ hand and pressing it on his stomach. “Can you feel that?” 

Louis waits for a moment, unsure what’s happening, feeling Harry’s wide eyes on him. Nothing happens for a while and then… He feels something very brief, a fluttering movement like butterfly wings maybe, under his palm. “Oh my god.” 

Harry presses their hands firmer to his stomach. The baby flutters a little bit longer and then it stops. 

“Got a footballer coming up, Lou,” Harry sounds as awestruck as Louis feels. 

“Brilliant, I want a whole team.” 

“That’ll be a while, then. Not doing this again in a while.” 

“I thought you said you’ll never do it again?” 

“I might,” Harry beams at him. “After I send your mum a gift basket.” 

Louis chuckles and tickles Harry’s bare skin with the tip of his fingers. He likes to think maybe their baby can feel it, a little cute caress. “Why are you sending my mum a gift basket?” 

“She had twins twice, Lou. She deserves a gift basket just for that. I’m having one baby and, to be honest, I think anyone who goes through this the first time and still decides to provide their first born with siblings deserves the world.” 

“Absolutely,” Louis nods, “I’ll get you all the gift baskets in the world, too.” 

They entertain themselves first with planning different gift baskets for different occasions and people, then watching a few episodes of Gogglebox online. It’s only been about four hours now from the twelve hour limit Harry has to stay up. It comes as a shock to realise they actually can now go out together, so they opt for a late night munch at McDonalds. They wander around the streets aimlessly for a while, in the lovely summer night, only stopped by two fans who can’t stop thanking them for making them feel safe and accepted. They tell the fans the feeling is very mutual. There’s a Tesco nearby, and Harry can immediately think about several things he must absolutely have right now immediately. Louis waits outside to have a smoke. Finally, they find a 24 hour pharmacy, stocked surprisingly well with personal hygiene products, so Harry and Louis splurge on some fancy-looking facial masks and return to their hotel for a pampering. 

“Eugh, don’t you kiss me with that face on,” Louis tries to avoid Harry who’s approaching him with a disgusting looking green facial mask applied to his face. “Alien freak. What even was that, avocado?” 

“Green tea!” Harry exclaims happily and checks the temperature of the bath water. Still just a tad too hot. “It’s not like your face doesn’t look like it’s been rubbed in shit.” 

“Chocolate actually, I’ll have you know.” 

Louis looks at Harry as he strips his clothes off and walks to the bath tub, putting one leg in. Hissing, he pulls his leg up and shakes his head at Louis. “Still too hot.” 

Harry walks to Louis, dripping bath water and some bubbles all over the floor. He pulls Louis’ shirt over his head and unbuttons his jeans, pulling them and Louis’ underwear down along with him as he kneels. He wraps his arms around Louis’ knees and nuzzles his nose on Louis thigh. 

“Babe.” Louis looks down at Harry. “Babe, get up.” 

An upset look flashes on Harry’s face. “What?” 

“Get up, come on.” 

“Am I… Don’t you want me?” 

“No, no, nothing like that!” Louis pulls Harry up by his hands and smacks his bum. “You’re sex on legs. I always want you. But now I want to show you something more.” 

He turns Harry to face the mirror on his side, and runs his hand via the outline of Harrys’ profile, stopping his hand just above Harry’s penis, as if to cradle his stomach. “Do you see? I was looking down at you and, I definitely saw a little swell.” 

Harry looks at the mirror, puzzled, moving his own hands to his stomach as well. “I… I hadn’t noticed. I thought it was just, food or something.” 

Harry’s definitely having a very teeny, very tiny, but definitely there swallow on his lower tummy. It’s protruding, albeit not much, but it’s for sure not from being bloated. 

“How did I not notice? I’ve always got my hands on my tummy!” Harry looks down and caresses his stomach, turning around to look at himself from every angle in the mirror. “It’s gorgeous.” 

“Yeah,” Louis stands behind Harry and puts his hands on his stomach, too. “So gorgeous,” he kisses Harry between his shoulder blades. 

They lay in the bath until the water’s cool, until their skin is wrinkled like an old man’s skin, until they almost fall asleep accidentally in their post orgasmic state of sated. 

“Three more hours,” Louis glances at the television. “Then we can sleep.” 

“Excellent. All this staying up is making me feel like a snack.” Harry opens the minibar, where he’d stocked his Tesco shopping, and makes a happy sound as he apparently finds something especially snack-worthy. 

“Pickles? From the jar?” Louis tries to be accepting but some things are just a bit too disgusting. 

“Mm,” Harry licks his lips and shows the other product on his hand. “Dipped into cherry yoghurt.” 

Louis gags involuntarily. “You’ve got to be kidding me. That’s vile, babe.” 

“You may say vile. I say a perfect combination of salty and sweet. Crunchy.” Harry opens the lid of the yoghurt and dips in a pickle, biting it and then offering it to Louis. “Want to try?” 

Now, Louis knows a lot of things. He knows that pickles dipped in yoghurt are most likely horrendous and he will throw up with at least a forty percent chance. He does, however, also know that he adores Harry, who is currently pregnant with their monster baby who is forcing one of their dads to eat awful stuff. 

“Sure,” Louis hesitates and watches Harry dip the pickle into the yoghurt, then handing it to Louis who takes a bite. And then splutters and coughs and runs to the toilet to spit it all out. 

“Fucking hell, that’s nasty!” Louis says heavily as he comes back, seeing Harry roll around in the bed, cackling. 

“I can’t believe you fell for it!” Harry is gloating. “Of course it’s fucking awful!” He wipes tears off his eyes and looks at Louis, cackling. “Everyone knows cherry is nasty, you have to use strawberry yoghurt so it’s actually delicious.” He bins the cherry yoghurt and picks a strawberry one from the minibar, happily now chomping down the pickle. “Honesty Lou, you’re way too gullible. Our kid is going to have the worst house parties behind our backs and you’ll just happily oblige and enable them.” 

“Please, with the stuff we’ve done? Our kid is probably going to rebel with being well proper and getting a perfectly decent job and, I don’t know, liking classical music and girls.” 

Harry laughs and coughs as he inhales pieces of pickles at the same time. “I guess we don’t have to like them, we just got to love them.” 

There’s a pointless, cheap TV movie on as they lay on the bed cuddled up, Harry realising now is probably the time where his sleeping on the stomach days end at least for a while. Harry logs onto twitter and posts a quick note thanking everyone for their concern and that he’s feeling loads better and being taken good care of, and there’s no reason to worry. He opens his Instagram, scrolling through liking a picture of Dotty the cat, a random art picture by a friend, and a rather stupid but still amusing meme. He coos at a picture of Lux, tagged with a children’s fashion brand and goes to check them out. 

“Lou.” 

“Mhh?” 

“Look at this stuff,” Harry shows his phone to Louis who is currently chatting, talking shit with Stan, just home from a student party. “I want Little Wonder to wear all of this. It’s so…” 

“Hipstery.” 

“Nice, and hip, and suitable for either a boy or a girl, I know you meant to say.” Harry likes a few pictures, of onesies with anchors, a baby hat that resembles a panda, little tiny sneakers that Louis also approves of. He puts his phone away and starts surfing different channels, settling on another rerun of Mock the Week from probably quite a few years ago. 

“Uhm, babe?” Louis says after about fifteen minutes. He sounds a bit hesitant. 

“Yeah?” 

“Did you, eh, like any of those baby clothes pics?” 

“Yeh, quite a few. Want to put an order in later. And don’t argue, I know you liked them too.”

“No, it’s not…” Louis shows a screen on his tumblr mobile app. “You didn’t happen to accidentally like them from your public account, instead of your private, did you?” 

Harry’s face goes white. “No, I…” He looks at the screen, scrolls down to see posts and posts of fan accounts yelling about him liking baby clothes. “Fuck.” 

“Uh huh,” Louis cracks his neck. “They’re already speculating when you’re due. And saying that you eating so many crisps on stage should’ve been the first sign.” 

Harry groans and presses his eyes with his hands. “This sucks. I suck.” 

“There there,” Louis pats his arm comfortingly. “It’s just speculation. You know what they’re like. And, like, it’ll be out in the open in a bit anyway, so…” 

“Just wanted to do it in our own terms.” 

“This isn’t going to spread anywhere. Let them have their fun.” A mischievous grin appears on Louis’ face. “We should probably give them more fun. And we could have some fun, too.” 

“What are you saying?” 

Louis just winks and grins. 

“You’re such a troll,” Harry laughs and sounds adoring. “I love it.” 

They plot for a bit and then decide Louis to start follow the baby store on twitter. It doesn’t take long for their social media to explode with notifications (which they don’t reply to, of course) and the supportive fans to start speculating about a name. 

\--

“I might just fall asleep here,” Harry sighs blissfully and leans back in the chair, closing his eyes, as Lou starts combing his hair with her fingers. 

“Still feeling tired?” 

“No, just… Everyone’s making such a fuss. Treating me like I’m crippled, now that it’s getting visible.” Harry considers for a moment and pats his stomach that’s getting bigger every day. “Which doesn’t mean you should stop growing, little one.” His bump is not yet quite obvious, except to those who see him every day and know about his, which, on a tour, is pretty much everyone. And all those everyones keep staring at him if he so much as takes a few running steps, or coughs, or takes a nap. 

“To be fair, sounds exactly like you were with me when I was preggers with Lux. Is Louis fussing, too?” 

Harry chuckles. “He tries not to, after we… discussed. I guess he’s seen how good I honestly feel, knows I’m not just being a martyr. He’s being extra sweet lately, though.” 

“Oh please,” Lou rolls her eyes and laughs. “That boy has never been anything but extra sweet to you.” 

Harry blushes. “I guess.” 

Lou reaches for a hairspray on the make-up table. “Better enjoy it while it lasts,” she tries to sound nonchalant. 

Harry frowns. “What do you mean?” 

Lou weighs her words for a bit. “Just that… Having a baby is a huge strain for the relationship. The first year is absolutely mental.” 

“We’re aware.”

“No, not like… I mean yeah, you can think you’re prepared for never sleeping and the baby demanding every bit of your time and energy, but… The reality is worse.”

“I’m not sure if I want to hear this, to be honest,” Harry mutters and shifts around uncomfortably. Even Little Wonder is fussing inside him, clearly not impressed with Auntie Lou’s gloomy ways. 

“But you do, bub. It came as a huge shock to Tom and me, and I wish someone would’ve warned me how tough the first year is, especially for your relationship. Was rough. Just make sure you’re prepared for it. So easy to reduce to just parents trying to keep their kid alive.” 

“We do want to keep it alive, Lou. It doesn’t… like smelling of poop and not always being done to the nines isn’t going to matter.” Lou nods and squeezes Harry’s shoulder. “Of course not. It’s not about stuff like that. Just… Make sure you have time to be you, as a couple, as well and not just… Parents. Lux and I will be ecstatic to babysit for you.” 

Harry doesn’t know what to say and Lou seems like she’s spoken her mind. 

“But,” she carries on as she starts brushing Harry’s face with powder. “I know you two, I’m sure you’ll be yet another exception to this rule, too. You’re my goals.” 

“Meet Auntie Lou,” Harry hums at Little Wonder. “She’s a pessimistic fan girl. We only stand her because she has a little girl, Lux is her name, and she’s adorable and you two will be bestest of friends.” 

Lou flicks Harry’s nose with the hard end of the brush. 

Louis walks into the make-up room and over to Harry and Lou. His skin smells like sun and hand like cigarette smoke. Harry lifts the hand to his nose and sniffs. 

“Going to tell me off?” 

“Nah, just smells good. Really feel like a ciggie now?” 

Louis kisses Harry’s temple and cradles his bump. “Why, this or that one,” he points at Lou, “been giving you trouble? Do I need to fight someone?” 

“No, just…” Harry looks at Lou quickly who gets the point and excuses herself with a sudden craving to go annoy Niall. With Lou out of the room, Louis hops up to the make-up table and waits. 

Harry bites his lip hesitantly, unsure how to start. “Do you think we’ll be okay?” 

“We’ll be brilliant, love. But with what, exactly?” 

“Just…” Harry makes a vague gesture with his hand. “Like, I know we’ll probably be fucking amazing parents, but like… us two. Me and you. Think we’ll be okay?”

Louis waves his leg so he can nudge Harry’s foot gently. “Yeah. We will. I mean, it’s not going to be easy, never is with a baby, but…” 

“What do you mean? You’ve been thinking about it, too? Are you like, concerned?” Harry’s suddenly feeling way more concerned than comforted, mind spinning into thinking of Louis unable to sleep at nights, fussing over how their relationship is surely going to hit the rocks after the first week of having the baby, already thinking of custody agreements and how they’ll split the… Harry realises he’s maybe a bit more dramatic than usual. He blames hormones. 

Louis shrugs. “Seen it with my mum, haven’t I? I mean, it’s not going to be all rosy and pink and amazing, it’ll be tough for sure. But we’ll be fine. Promise.” He holds out his pinky, and Harry wraps his own around it. “We’ve been through rough shit before, and it’s always been worth it. This is definitely, like, the most worth it.” 

And as so many times before, Harry finds himself comforted; finds himself to have all the trust and the love in the world for his Louis. 

The door slams open and Kim walks in, looking at something in her hands with a soft smile on her face. “There you are! Some fans sent this over.” 

She passes the packet, wrapped in gift wrap of black polkadots on a white background, to Louis. Harry gets up from the chair and goes to Louis. “What is it?” 

Kim laughs a little. “I’d imagine a gift for the baby,” she uses finger quotation marks on the last word and then looks puzzled. “Though I guess it’s not really in need of quotation marks, being real and all.” 

“And you just took it? What did you say?” 

“Said I’d pass it on, as it wasn’t ticking. They winked a lot, those fans. Very sweet.” Kim leans onto her hand, raised at her cheek. “Bet you a fiver it’s something nautical. All the gifts we’re being sent seem to be.” 

“There’s gifts?” 

“Where are the gifts? We want all the gifts.” 

“At the office, calm down. You’ll get them when we’re home.” 

Harry nods and then looks at Louis. “What’s taking so long? Open it! 

Louis starts wrapping the gift very carefully, like it’s delicate. Harry wants to grab the gift from his hands but then reckons they’re not in a hurry; it’s the first gift to their baby, after all. 

As Louis finally reveals a pair of tiny knitted baby booties, light green anchors on a blue base, Harry can’t help the tears starting to form in his eyes. 

“So tiny,” he whispers and touches the booties carefully, as if they’d break. “Teeny tiny.” 

Louis looks absolutely stunned to silence, turning the booties on his hand and then smelling them. “Don’t think I’ve ever loved something material this much.” 

Harry digs out his phone and takes a picture, for once not using any filters as he wants to capture the gorgeous booties just as they are. Looking at his phone, he suddenly hears the biggest ‘heureka’ in his head and looks at Louis, probably with a slightly manic look in his eyes. 

“I got an idea for the announcement.” 

They’d been thinking about it before, a way to announce they’re expecting, but hadn’t really settled for anything yet. It felt like the biggest update to make, and they didn’t want to half-ass this for once. 

Louis raises his brow. “Involving shoes?” 

“Involving shoes.” Harry takes Louis by his hand and drags him to their dressing room, yelling Kim to run along. In their dressing room, Harry picks up pairs of his different shoes and finally settles on his blue and white boots. 

“What of yours goes with these?” 

Louis licks his lip, eyeing his row of shoes and then picks up a pair of white Converses. 

“Excellent.” Harry nods approvingly. He picks one boot and one Converse, measuring the floor material for background purposes, decides against it and looks around the room. Louis smoothens the polkadot gift paper and sits on the black rug, starting to fold the corners of the wrapping paper. 

Harry looks at him for a bit, wondering what the hell, until he gets it. “You’re folding it to a heart?” He feels very, very warm inside. 

“Yeh,” Louis presses the corners sharp and rips the paper a little to mold the upper corners rounder, and then it’s all done. He shows it to Harry. “So this, and the shoes, and the bootie on the rug? You dig?” 

“I dig.” 

They fuss over for a while to place everything, finally settling with the gift wrap heart on the corner, Harry’s boot covering just a bit of its right side, Louis’ shoe next to Harry’s and then the little anchor bootie sideways on top of them, so the anchor is shown directly to the camera. 

Harry kneels on the floor, not quite as gracefully as before, with his back aching a bit and his stomach taking up more space than before. He snaps a few pictures, shows them to Louis and they agree on the second one being the best.

“Kim,” Louis beckons her over. “You’re management. Approve?” 

Kim looks at his screen and lets out a little yelp. She looks at Louis and then Harry, and nods. 

“You ready?” Louis lets out a nervous breath.

Harry looks at his similar draft to Louis’ on his screen, and then to Louis, the pile of shoes on the floor and finally at his bump, then again at Louis. “Am ready.” 

They post the picture to Instagram at the same time, tagging each other to it and sharing it on twitter. The caption says ‘All our little things’, with the hashtags #weloveyou #littlewonder and #seeyouinnovember . 

(Harry wasn’t immediately agreeing to the last hashtag, but cave in after Louis reasoned it’d be too long to use #seeyouinnovemberorhalloweendependswhowinsthebet.)


	4. Third trimester

Who knew that it was possible to have only two state of minds; domestic and horny? Not Harry, that’s who. He’s starting to realise it now though, as where ever he looks in their house, everything looks dirty and so not ready for a baby. His laptop browser has three different windows open, each with multiple tabs of inspirational nursery décor, and he’s a bit miffed that Louis isn’t fully entertaining him with long discussions about the pros and cons of decorative wall stickers (con: they are usually tacky and pro: Harry’s feeling a bit tacky about his child). 

Harry has cleaned all of the bathrooms a few times, but he’s just realised the earlier times were sort of quick tidy-ups on the surface, and he just can’t stay in a house with so many germ armies marching around freely. Going down to his hands and knees feels awful, but it’s not a sacrifice too bit for Little Wonder. It doesn’t take him long to realise that he’s unable to really scrub the sealants between the shower tiles unless he lies on his stomach, which – is not possible with how big his bump is now. Lou’s in for a treat when he gets home. 

“Are you leaving me, babe?” Comes a sound from the bathroom door. 

“Eh?” Harry tries to get up but realises his back is somehow stuck and he can’t get up. He tries to pretend he never tried to get up from hands and knees and halfheartedly scrubs a tile he knows is already clean enough, even to his standards. Louis would just flip out of worry. 

“Found your rings in the kitchen. Looked like you’d up and left, not even left a note,” Louis pouts exaggeratedly. “Alright, what are you doing now?” 

“Just cleaning.” 

“With a toothbrush?” 

“I’m cleaning _properly._ ” 

“Riiight.” Louis looks at him for a bit and then frowns. “Are you… okay?”

“Mm-hm,” Harry tries to sound cheerful. “Testing if a bath tub birth might be the way to go.” He winces as his back muscle spasms out of the tension of being in such an awkward position. 

Louis rushes to him and supports his upper body, rubbing his lower back as Harry clampers up from the bath tub. “Don’t think it is, love.” 

“Don’t know what would be though. I want to see the doc and go to the breathing class…” 

“Antenatal class.” 

“Yeh, that, where we practise breathing, and then I want someone to just tell me what to choose and I’ll choose it and go do it.” 

“Easy peasy.” 

“Easy peasy,” Harry nods resolutely and looks at Louis like forbidding him to disagree. He goes to the sink and starts pulling the yellow rubber gloves he’s wearing off. He’s midway the first glove when he stops, and looks at them. “Lou…” 

“Babe?” 

“Have we ever had sex with me wearing rubber gloves before?” 

“Uhm, no. Think you’d remember.” 

“Should we try?” 

“What?” Louis laughs. 

“I mean, look at them.” Harry wiggles his fingers so the finger bits flop up and down. “Isn’t this kind of… hot? Like it turns you on.” 

“Love, it looks like an empty rubber chicken.” 

“I think it looks slightly sexy,” Harry stares at his hand and subconsciously licks his lips.

“No.” 

“No?” 

“No. Here, put your rings on instead.” 

Harry tries to push the peace-ring back to his finger, but it doesn’t fit. Hissing, he tries another ring, and then the third one. None of them move down past his second knuckle. “Fuck.” 

Louis takes one of his fingers and a ring, and tries to wiggle it down gently, but it won’t budge. He can barely pull it off Harry’s finger. “Bit swollen, eh?” 

Harry looks down at his fingers, usually so slender but now they look like… well, a pregnant person’s swollen fingers. “Like bloody sausages, aren’t they? You could dip them in mustard and have dinner.” 

“I think I’d rather eat something else.” 

Harry looks sad. “I haven’t had time to make anything, I was too busy cleaning.” 

Louis blinks at him and pushes him closer, hands on his bum. They can’t get quite as close as before, with Harry’s bump between them. “You, idiot. I’d rather eat you.” 

“Oh!” Harry’s eyes widen. ”I see. Yes, yes that would be a good… course of events.” 

“Come along, then.” Louis takes his hand and pulls him to their bedroom. He rubs Harry’s fingers with his thumb as they walk. “Your hands feel very soft.” Harry tries to hug Louis from behind but only manages to weirdly hang onto his upper back, as the bump again gets on the way.

In the bedroom, Louis starts undressing him with first pulling his faded band t-shirt over his head. 

Louis licks his lips and starts to rub Harry’s breasts. “These are getting so big,” Louis wets his lips and lowers his head to lick one of swollen nubs. The wetness of his mouth feels heavenly, and Harry throws his head back. “Love your titties.”

“Lou…”

“Breasts, sorry,” Louis suckles the nipple, then licking down between Harry’s breasts and massaging under them, pressing the soft flesh with his fingers until Harry winces. “Does it hurt?” 

Harry shakes his head, looking a bit blissed out and biting his lips between his teeth. “Good hurt.” 

Louis hums and kisses Harry, licking his tongue and roughly sucking his lower lip, still massaging his breasts. He breaks the kiss to unbutton Harry’s jeans, not quite as skinny as he knows Harry would prefer. 

“You didn’t have to worry,” he tickles his fingertips on the laurels on Harry’s hips, “these are still looking good.” 

“Come on, Lou,” Harry whines as Louis palms his cock, already leaking in his pants. “Want you so much.” 

Louis kisses him again, mouth lingering on how Harry tastes. Thank goodness he’s over pickles, now. He quickly looks at their bed and at Harry with his bump, mostly naked except he still has his pants on, with a wet spot forming on the front. Louis puts his fingers under the waistband and pulls them down, putting one hand on Harry’s lower back and one to cradle the bump, supporting Harry as he lifts his legs and kicks the pants to the side. 

“How do you wanna do this?” Louis whispers and bites Harry’s earlobe. 

His warm breath makes Harry shiver. “Don’t care.” 

“Go lie on your back then, babe.” 

Harry does as he’s told, propping an extra pillow under his head. He considers and passes another pillow to Louis. 

“Need to lift your hips love, can’t put it under you otherwise.” 

Harry huffs. “I can’t bend my back that high up.” 

“I…” Louis chews his thumb and then figures it out. “If you roll over to your side, and then I’ll put it here and you can roll back?” 

They try that, and it works, though the pillow got a bit skewed with Harry rolling on top of it so it takes him a while to fuss and try to pull it higher under him.

Harry drops his legs open to allow Louis space. Louis lowers his head, laying on his stomach with his hands on Harry’s thighs, pressing his nose onto the faint whips of Harry’s pubic hair and sniffs. The smell is so arousing; precome and a bit of sweat and something very uniquely Harry, all mixing up. Louis looks up to meet Harry’s eyes but realises the bump is actually blocking the view now. 

“I can’t see you,” Harry whines.

At that moment, Louis realises he’s also not able to reach Harry’s hole as he’s laying too flat, despite the pillow. 

“I’m going to need to lift your leg a bit, love.” Louis lifts Harry’s right leg a little, and it stops quicker than he thought. “It’s not bending.” 

“It’s as high as it goes.” 

“It used to go higher.” 

“I used to not be this big.”

“But you still do yoga!” 

“I can’t fucking bend it higher, Louis!” 

“Fine, fine. Okay, I’ll tell you what, rest it over my shoulder.” Harry huffs a little but finally manages to get his leg over Louis’ shoulder, resting his foot on Louis’ back. Louis goes to Harry’s hole again, and without thinking, shuffles a little upright. 

“Ow, ow, ow, ow!” Harry yelps. “Stop stop stop, Louis!” 

Louis lifts his head, accidentally lifting Harry’s leg higher with his movement. “What is it? Haz, you okay? Baby?” 

“Ow, fuck, stay down, I… Fucking lay flat, Lou!” Harry’s trying to move his leg off Louis. “Help me!”

“What do I need to do?” Louis feels panic spread over him, quickly glancing down to make sure he doesn’t see any blood.

“Lie flat and push my leg off,” Harry winces. 

Louis lowers himself so he can drop Harry’s leg gently off his shoulder. Harry groans and as Louis sits up, he can see Harry massaging the side of his hip, wiggling his toes. 

“What happened, love? You okay now?” He starts to massage Harry’s thigh a bit lower, knowing Harry can’t reach it. He presses his hand down the muscles to Harry’s calf, continuing to rub it. 

“Fucking leg cramp,” Harry mutters. “Fucking hurts. Stupid fucking leg.” Harry sighs, deflated. “Don’t think rimming is on the menu for a while. Could you fuck me instead?” 

Louis grimaces involuntarily. “I… Don’t think it’s a good idea, right now.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Just… The moment’s gone. Let’s just have pizza or something.” 

Louis orders pizza and they watch some telly. Harry’s moping for the rest of the evening, disappointed at his stupid failing body and also a bit pissed off at Louis for neither rimming or fucking him. He can’t stop himself staring at Louis’ fingers as he licks them after finishing his pizza, or staring at Louis’ crotch and seeing even the faint outline of his cock.

Louis isn’t on the mood the following night, either. Or the one after. Or the one after that. 

Harry’s making a salad for them for lunch, and gets turned on by holding a cucumber. 

“That is fucking it,” Harry slams the cucumber down on the chopping board and marches to Louis. Without a word, he puts his hand in Louis’ pants and gently yanks his cock. 

“Uhm?”

“Come on. I need sex and if it’s not with you, I swear to god there’s a cucumber in the kitchen right now I’m happy to do instead.”

“Alright, alright,” Louis gets up the sofa and jogs behind Harry up the stairs and to their bedroom. 

Harry’s already naked and tapping his foot. He pushes Louis to the bed and pulls his sweatpants to his knees. He awkwardly bends over Louis, reaching to the nightstand drawer and gets the lube. 

“I don’t care how this happens, but it has to happen,” Harry tells Louis factually as he squirts a hefty dose of lube onto his hand and starts stroking Louis’ cock. It reacts to the touch, but doesn’t harden. Harry glances at Louis and keeps his hand moving, cupping Louis’ balls gently, then ending down to take the tip of his penis to his mouth and look at Louis. 

Louis’ penis stays mostly soft. “I’m sorry, babe.”

“Okayy,” Harry mutters under his breath. He’s so horny and frustrated he might start crying. He gets off Louis and takes his hand, laying next to him. He reaches for the lube again and puts some on Louis’ hand. “Can you at least please finger me?” 

Louis can, and he does it with more care and gusto than he’s ever done it before. Harry comes twice.

\--

Harry can’t stop staring at the last ultrasound picture on his hand, softly tracing the outlines of what is very much almost a fully formed little human being. Louis had recorded the sound again, with them both in awe how each time the heartbeat seemed to get louder and stronger. They’re not even embarrassed of having the earlier sound files as both of their ringtones. Harry’s certain Louis is going to figure out a way to incorporate the audio to at least one new song on their upcoming album.

“And have you yet thought about how you’d want to give birth?” 

Harry’s stirred from his thoughts by the doctor’s voice. 

“As painlessly as possible, please?” Louis looks a bit nervous.

The doctor laughs. “I was more thinking along the lines of at home, in the hospital…”

“Hospital!” Harry blurts out loudly. Louis turns to look at him so quickly Harry is afraid for his neck. “I mean… I want all the help I can get. And all the pain relief, too. It… makesme feels safer. Is that ok?” He then lowers his voice as he asks Louis. 

Louis puts his arm around him and pulls him closer. “Of course, love. Anything is fine with me, anything you want.” 

“Alright. And, have you thought about how? Would you like to have a water birth, or maybe a…” 

“Just a traditional one, I think. I don’t… I don’t want my first look at our baby be of theme drowning.” 

“Haz, you know babies don’t drown. It's virtually impossible.” 

“Still,” Harry mumbles quietly.

The doctor laughs again, sympathetically. “Well, I’m happy to report we have yet to have a baby drown in the birthing pool. Especially as babies have a throat reflex that makes it impossible for them to drown. But yes, there is a certain comfort and security, I guess, for having your first child in the traditional way.” 

“Okay, alright, good,” Harry lets out a relieved breath. At least he’s not fucking up the daunting labour before it even starts by making choices his doctor would roll her eyes at. “Will you be there?” 

“No, unfortunately. We have a wonderfully experienced and lovely midwife army, and it’s not custom to have a doctor in, but I will of course be within easy reach in case something goes wrong.” 

Harry lets out a little meep. 

“Which, of course, it won’t. At all. You’ve had a very healthy and low-risk pregnancy, you’ve done amazingly, both of you.” The doctor offers Harry and Louis a kind smile. “And I am happy to come see your new little bundle as soon as you feel ready!” 

With the pregnancy coming to an end and with especially the labour drawing nearer, Harry’s starting to feel unsure if he’s ready to meet the little bundle quite yet. 

“Right, unless you have any more questions, I think we’re done here. I believe you have an antenatal class starting quite soon after this?” 

“Yeh, in about half an hour. Just going to grab some coffee.” 

They bid their farewells with Harry deep in thought. The building where the doctor’s office is has a Costa right downstairs and a lovely inner courtyard with benches and a bit of greenery, so they get coffee and decide to have them outside. It’s still warm and sunny for a September. 

“Lou.” 

“Mhm?” 

“I think I’m… Oh, you’ve got some milk froth on your nose,” Harry wipes it with his finger and licks it off his finger. “I think I’m a little scared.” 

Louis snuggles in closer to Harry. “Of giving birth?” He puts his hand on Harry’s. 

Harry sighs. “Yeah, I… don’t think I can do it.” 

Louis lifts Harry’s hand up to his lips and kisses the knuckles. “Okay. Are you keeping Little Wonder in for eternity, then?” 

Harry looks down at his huge bump. “Yeah. It’ll be safe forever and I don’t have to die.” 

“You’re not going to die, love.” 

“I might.” 

“But you won’t.”

“Birthing is a dangerous business, Lou.” Harry’s eyes are big with horror. “Anything could happen to the baby. Anything could happen to me. It’s going to hurt like hell. It’ll be hell. Maybe for like, over twentyfour hours. I might accidentally shit myself. Maybe you shouldn’t come at all.”

Louis chuckles softly and puts his coffee cup down on the bench, so he can wrap both of his arms around Harry and lean him to him. “Nothing is going to happen to either of you. And yeah, it will hurt, but it won’t kill you. You’ll get amazing meds and be high and happy as a kite. And after, you’re going to see and hold our baby. Our little love,” Louis emphasises with fondling the bump. “And I really don’t care if you poop. Nothing is going to keep me away from being there.”

“Will you hold my hand?” 

“Of course. You can yell and poop all you want and break my hand, but I’ll still be there and be your biggest fan. If it takes three days, I’ll be there still.”

“Oh come on, Lou,” Harry huffs, “now you’re just being dramatic. It’s not going to take three days.” 

Louis nuzzles his nose into Harry’s curly hair, flowing open today, and it smells like raspberry. Harry’s gone through almost eight months of only using fruit-scented shampoos. “I know you’re scared, babe, but it will be fine. I’ll be there right with you. You’re an amazing magical creature full of love and you are going to be wonderful.”

“Swear?” 

“I swear.” 

They cuddle up on the bench, and Harry is feeling protected, like even if things are a bit scary, he’ll be fine. He’s not alone, and soon he’ll be even more not-alone with their baby – shit, his and Louis’ baby – finally here with them. He feels a bit bittersweet at the thought of departing with Little Wonder, as they’d been inside him for so long, he knew they were safe and they were such a tightknit unit. He’ll miss being able to look down and put a hand on his stomach and see and feel his own child right there. 

“I can’t wait to see them. What they look like. What they sound like.” Louis says dreamily. “It’ll be weird with like, you becoming only you again, but like, can you imagine? We can feel our baby in our arms soon. And they’ll start speaking and hopefully not have a curse word as their first word.”

“I bet you it’ll be love, the first word.” 

“Bet me how much? Or what?”

“It’ll be a while before this bet is settled, so… I don’t know what we want then. Can the winner just decide when they win?” 

“Deal,” they shake hands and head back inside the building for their antenatal class. 

“God, I hope that muppet isn’t there today,” Louis confides to Harry as they’re in the lift. 

“The guy with the moustache?”

“Yeah,” Louis shivers. “I want to punch him. Everything he says is so fucking dumb.”

“He’s awful to his wife.” 

“Like, what are you, five? You’re here to support your partner with like, the biggest thing that can happen to anyone, and you want to crack shitty jokes about how stressed you are?”

“Asking if the laughing gas tanks are endless so you don’t have to cry.” 

“I hope she dumps him and lives happily ever after.” 

The doors open and they walk into the bright room, full of colourful bean bags and pictures of baby physiology on the walls, non-creepy dolls (which Harry’d been shocked to find out even exist) on one corner of the room and some inspirational quote posters about parenthood framed on the walls. There’s a faint sound of birds chirping coming from the loudspeakers. It’s a little bit hippy, and Harry absolutely loves it.

“Hello, sweet parents and babies,” their instructor, Amaya, smiles at them as they sit down in a circle on the floor. Harry and Louis both really like her; she has an aura of serene gentleness but she also knows what she’s talking about, and is able to be firm and no-nonsense at the same time. “I feel we are gathered here today in good spirits.” 

Louis just about suppresses his chuckle; Moustache Muppet is not in today. He’s just such a douche, and they didn’t get off to a good start as despite hearing a clear murmur when they walked into their first class and people realised who they were, Moustache Muppet had actually pointed at them and rubbed his fingers together, gesturing ‘money’ to his wife. Louis had consulted Amaya after the first class, and for the next one, he’d walked into briskly with NDA’s in his hand and a pen in another. People had been fine with it, understanding their situation. Harry and Louis prided themselves in being quite nice people, after all, so they had no issues with any hostility. Except Louis’ animosity with Moustache Muppet. 

Amaya leads them through a few very easy yoga stretches and breathing exercises, then asking for the expectant partners to lean towards their partner between their legs, so their partners can cradle them. She encourages for the expectant partners to close their eyes, even their breathing, imagine their baby in their mind and maybe even put their hands on their stomach. 

“Let the love flow through you,” Amaya says softly in her deep sing-song voice. “You feel your mind connect with your child, prepare to welcome them, envision them in your mind and how you’re ready and happy to meet them.” 

Harry imagines bright blue eyes, brown curls bouncing everywhere, a baby who giggles a lot and who falls asleep on Louis’ lap, of all three of them snoozing together and maybe they’ll get a cat and they’ll call it Kitty, maybe. 

“And I want this, right here, to be the moment that you lock into your minds, for when you’re in labour, you can close your eyes and come back to this moment and feel energised with what, and why, you’re doing.” 

“I love you,” Louis’ lips are moving against the back of Harry’s hand. 

They go through different breathing techniques next, with Amaya explaining the different forms of pain relief they can choose – or not choose, each to their own. A little later, she asks all couples to go get a baby doll. 

“Just FYI, I’m having epidural. If I’m too out of it to talk or I’m like dead, you need to tell them to give me all the epidurals in the world.”

“Sure.” 

“Like sorry, I’m so not doing a natural birth. I want all the meds. All the gases.” 

“Noted,” Louis taps the tip of his nose and they go back to the circle with a doll. 

“Now, you had all mentioned to me earlier that your first wish would be breastfeeding, correct?” 

Harry and Louis nod. Harry really hopes to be able to nurture their child, but he’s aware it might not be that easy. 

“Harry, you look a bit concerned. Do you want to talk, sweetie? It’s probably something everyone else thinks about, too.”

“I… I’m worried if it doesn’t work. Like, if the baby doesn’t want to breastfeed.” 

Amaya nods. “Understandable, I think a lot of us have wrestled with the same worry.” Other expecting people nod, agreeing. “But nature has a way of taking care of its own. You should try breastfeeding if that is your choice.”

“It is.” 

“Then, if for some reason it doesn’t work, don’t push it. It doesn’t always work. There’s plenty of ways to provide your child with all the food and nutrients they need, not just your own milk. If it doesn’t work out for you and your child, it doesn’t make you any less. It doesn’t mean you’re a bad parent.” Amaya smiles at Harry.

“Good, okay, thanks. That’s pretty much what I…” Harry can feel Louis’ hand hold him tighter and he leans back, “needed to hear.” 

They practice feeding positions with the babies, testing out what feels like a good position for them. Amaya shows a little video about a birth and Harry doesn’t feel as panicked any more. He closes his eyes and sees more brown curls bouncing everywhere, running in their garden. 

\--

“I don’t get why you need to involve my mum,” Louis groans as he’s walking behind Harry – quite an achievement, as Harry is practically waddling now but is still steaming ahead quicker than reluctant Louis – and kicking gravel on road. 

“She’s a midwife. She’s had seven babies. She knows this stuff.” 

“She’ll know we have sex!” Louis blurts out.

Harry stops and turns to look at Louis, unimpressed. He looks at his stomach pointedly. “I think it’s a bit obvious anyway.” 

“Lou, my love.” Harry walks to Louis and shakes his shoulders gently. “I want sex like, all the time right now. It’s been ages since I last had it, and that was a bloody catastrophe. As were a few times before. I’m going to give birth in about a month’s time, and let me assure you, there isn’t going to be much sex after that. I need this. Please let me have this.”

“Fine,” Louis shrugs petulantly. “I still can’t believe you want to talk about this with my mum.” 

“You talk about everything with your mum, don’t give me that. Better her than a stranger, no?” 

“I guess,” Louis mumbles and kicks some more gravel. “Just don’t get why we need to do this now. We won’t be up north in a while, why couldn’t we just enjoy it? I didn’t see us speaking about sex stuff with your mum.”

“You literally made me listen to her birthing stories of me and Gems.”

“Not the same.” 

“You tell me that when you’re about to pop out a little human out of you in a few weeks.”

“I thought it’d be encouraging!” 

Harry throws a look at Louis that wills him to shut up. “Okay, maybe it did a bit,” Harry finally admits. “Now keep that spirit and be encouraged when your mum talks us through sex.” 

They walk into the house, only to find it empty. 

“They knew we’re coming today, right?” 

“Yeah, I’m sure I said… Wait, here’s a note.” Louis quickly reads through his mum’s neat handwriting. “Ah, okay. She’s taken the twins on a playdate.” 

“They’re six months.” 

“I guess what she means is she’s taken herself on a playdate.” 

“Fair enough,” Harry nods and picks up a banana. “Listen, Lou.” 

Louis has just put the kettle on and is raiding through what he knows is the treat cupboard. “Yes, Haz?” 

“I didn’t… Sorry, I was just pissing about. I haven’t really set a sex talk date with your mum.” 

Louis throws a chocolate bar at Harry, who dodges. “You’re such a dickhead, Harry! Why would you say even say that? I was absolutely fretting!”

Harry cackles loudly. “I know, was hilarious!” It takes a while for him to calm down and stop bursting out in laughter. “I’m sorry.” 

“No you’re not.” 

“I am, I am. Not a lot, though.” 

“You’re such a child, Harold,” Louis walks to Harry and nips his forehead. “You’re not adult enough to have a baby.” 

Harry sticks his tongue out, and Louis flicks that as well. 

“I am serious, though. We do need to talk about this, I think.” 

Harry’s looking serious and a little sad, so Louis nods. “Okay. Alright.” 

Harry looks down at his bump, so big now that he has to spread his legs when sitting down to allow space for it; he looks down at his breasts, wonderfully soft and tender but also rather big. “I know I’m not… Like my body isn’t the same it used to be. I get it’s weird.” 

“It’s not weird. Just different. And for a good reason, too.”

“But it’s… Like, I know can’t do stuff I used to, and I don’t look like I used to. Not exactly a dream boat, being this fat and ugly.”

“Hey, hey, hold on,” Louis looks surprised. “You’re gorgeous. You’re glowing, have you seen yourself?” 

Harry sighs. “I feel… like, I feel like I’m glowing. I feel very… intense, about myself. I don’t know how to explain it, like… But, and I know you love me and all, but it’s pretty obvious you don’t want me.” 

“What are you even saying?” 

“You don’t want to have sex with me, Louis, that’s what. It’s obvious, you haven’t touched me that way since, fuck, I can’t even remember when.” 

“It… that’s not it, at all.” Louis tries to caress Harry’s cheek but Harry turns his head away. 

“I’ve never felt this, sexy, I guess, before, and it’s just…” 

“God, you are, baby, the sexiest thing.” 

“Why aren’t we having sex then? Huh? If you think I’m so this and that, why don’t you even touch me? Like, you don’t get hard even if I’m throwing myself to you!” Harry lets out a sob and he so bloody hates these hormones. 

“I… I don’t want to hurt you.” Louis finally confesses. It sounds so dumb, said out loud, but the fear he’s had for a while now is very real. 

“You won’t.” 

“The last time we tried anything, you were wincing in pain!” 

“Because of a leg cramp!” 

“Do you know how it feels, though? I literally thought I hurt you, or the baby, and… Like, that’s the first thing I think about now. That something I do would cause you pain, or break you, or hurt the baby, and…” Louis swallows hard. “And like, it’s right there. It just feels a bit… weird.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Like… Damn it. I’m afraid that if I push too deep, I’ll like, I don’t know, hit the baby’s head or something.” 

Harry stares at him for a bit and then his whole face softens. “Lou. Honey. No. That’s not… No. The baby is way deeper than you could get, not that you’re small by any means but. You’re being silly.” 

“I’m being an idiot, I know. I just… Like, I get you know what it’s like for you, but you don’t know what it’s like for me and… It’s also a lot. It’s like I get crippled with fear and then it just doesn’t happen.” 

Harry takes Louis’ hands to his, and kisses them both. “You’re lovely, Lou. You’re not going to hurt the baby, or me. You’re not going to accidentally hit the baby. Even if you come, it won’t go anywhere near the baby. It’s just me. Me in all my whale-like glory.” 

“But like…” Louis wishes the floor would crack open and swallow him. “Liam said that…” 

“Liam? Our Liam? Since when do you trust a word Liam says?” 

Louis looks to the ground. “He said that’s how people get dimples.” 

“What?” Harry laughs incredulously. 

“He said that… Dimples come from if your parents had sex towards the end, and the dad’s… penis…” 

Harry is now laughing out loud. “Poked the baby’s cheek? That’s so stupid, even for Liam. I have dimples, Boo.” 

“I know,” the mutter is barely audible. 

“You thought…” Harry pokes his dimples with his fingers. “You thought these are…?”

“Noooo,” Louis drawls out. 

“You wanted dimples for our kid though.” 

“Not like that, though! It’d be a reminder forever. I could not look at our kid and always think ‘my prick has touched your cheek’.”

“Did you hear that, Little Wonder? Listen to your silly dad. You’ll like him, but he’s so silly sometimes, isn’t he?” 

“Heey! Don’t turn my kid against me.” 

“A bit too late for that,” Harry winks. “They know everything about you. Can’t wait for them to actually have dimples and point and laugh at you at every possible moment. Our kid’s amazing like that.”

Louis looks at the bump, and then at Harry, rubbing his hands up and down Harry’s arms and then his thighs. “No one’s coming back in like, at least an hour.” He kisses Harry’s jaw, then moves up his jawline which isn’t as sharp as before; Harry’s face has gotten a little rounder, softer. “I’d really, really want to have sex with you. Right now. If you’d like.” 

Harry would like.

Louis leads him upstairs to his old room, and notices a new double bed as he opens the door. “Alright, I see, I’ve been begging to get a new one for years, turns out all you have to do is get pregnant and…” 

Harry shuts Louis’ mouth with his hand. “Lou. Sex. Now.” He hesitates a little and then ads, not wanting to be bossy and ruin the mood. “Please and thank you.” Harry pushes Louis to the bed and straddles him. He pulls Louis’ shirt over his head but then looks down at his jeans, sighing. Harry unstraddles Louis slightly clumsily and they get up, undressing themselves (Louis helping in pulling Harry’s maternity jeans off) and resuming position.

Louis runs his hands all over Harry’s bump, as Harry’s trying to find a good way to sit on top of Louis. “You’re so… fruitful.”

Harry cracks up. “I’m not a piece of land, Lou.” He leans back a little, supporting himself with his hands behind him on Louis’ thighs, and sighs happily as he can feel something firm against his bum. 

“You saying you don’t want me to water you?” Louis pouts. 

Harry rolls his eyes and chuckles. “Is this going to be awkward sex, again?” 

Louis lifts his hip and sits upright, gently pulling Harry closer to him, looking at his intensely and nuzzling their noses together. “No,” he whispers hoarsely. 

Louis dips his tongue onto Harry’s collarbone, and digs his thumbs to Harry’s inner thighs, starting to rub circles into them. Harry throws his head back, licking his lips and puts a hand on his belly. 

It’s not quite the manic romp he’d wished, but perhaps there is some compromises one has to do with a football-sized obstacle between them and their sex partners. Harry’s thankful for being so resourceful (and hopeful) to have packed lube in his duffel bag, despite him having to awkwardly crawl up Louis and be on his hands and knees above Louis, so Louis can open his with his fingers. 

“Sorry,” Harry mumbles, embarrassed, as his breasts seem to sway above Louis’ face. 

Louis is looking at them, fixated. “Can… Can I?”

It takes a while for Harry to get what Louis is asking a permission to, but then he finally nods. Louis gently cups one breast first, bringing his mouth to kiss around it, thumb rubbing the nub. He does the same for the other breast, and then tentatively sucks the nipple. Harry gasps at how, despite his nipples feeling swollen and raw, Louis’ mouth seems to soothe them. There’s something so intimate about it to Harry, feeling like he’s now providing Louis everything he needs, with Louis absolutely worshipping his changed body. 

He finally seats himself on Louis, slowly, thighs shaking only a little. Louis is taking turns between nuzzling his nose and mouth between Harry’s breasts and latching onto his nipples. Harry feels himself stretch, slowly as he pushes down onto Louis, feeling more filled with every inch. It takes a while to adjust to the physical feeling and also to gather himself of the intense emotional sensation of having Louis in him and all over him, evidence of what they can do with this so visible between them. Harry starts moving up and down slowly, his calves only feeling a little bit strained as he feels Louis cup his bum cheeks, helping him with lifting up every time. As Harry feels himself getting closer, he pushes Louis back to lay flat on the bed. The loss of a mouth fondling his breasts makes him feel a little bit incomplete, but as Louis puts his hand on Harry’s cock and starts stroking, Harry forgets about thinking and just feels. 

\--

“I’m still not sure about the decorative wall sticker, Lou.” 

“We could actually get a non-tacky one, you know. Like, an animal or something.” 

“But wouldn’t a wall painting be nicer?”

“I don’t know, Haz.” Louis stretches his sides. It’s only midday but he’s been assembling things for the last two hours, dragging around the rather heavy vintage pieces as Harry kept disagreeing with himself about their placement, and trying to listen to Harry’s never ending musings over different wall decorations. “Just, like, let me know before I start painting the walls.” He’s still got a painting marathon ahead, which luckily he’ll have help with from a few friends coming over. “I don’t want to paint several coats and then start again.” 

“Well, I’m sorry if this isn’t important to you,” Harry huffs and crosses his arms. “Sorry if it’s all the same for you what dump our baby lives in.” 

“It’s not all the same, Haz, stop that. You know it’s not. I just, like this room actually looks lovely as it is? A bit of paint and then finish the furniture and, like, I don’t know, we can make an enlargement of the shoe announcement pic and put that up, and…” 

Harry looks alerted. “What?” 

“What what?” 

“What did you say? About shoes?” 

“Said we can do an enlargement of the shoe pic, put that on the wall. I just, this is a lovely nursery already. We don’t know what kind of a person they are, if they want it yellow or blue or stars painted in the ceiling, or if we should buy space stuff or dolls or anything.” 

“You’re a genius! The shoe pic will be perfect,” Harry waddles to kiss Louis. “You’re right, I know. It’s a lovely room for now, and then they can decide more. I just, don’t want the baby to come home and be disappointed.” 

Louis lets out a chuckle. “You think we’ll bring them home and they’ll have one look around the house, decide it’s not really up to their style or standard, and what? Wave and say so long, suckers?” 

“It’s your kid, wouldn’t put it past it.” Harry takes the screwdriver from Louis’ hand and drops it to the floor. “You must be so tired. Working so hard for us. You deserve some tea in you.”

They decide to sit outside, as the crispy Autumn air isn’t unbearably cold yet. Louis has picked up a book from inside, from a pile of gift bags Kim had lugged over. 

“Should we start thinking about names, finally?” Louis shows the baby name book’s cover to Harry. 

“Thought we agreed to decide once we see them. See what they look like they should be named.” 

“Doesn’t hurt to have a plan, though. Also I don’t want you to trick me into agreeing to calling it Stevie, when I’m high on new fatherhood.” 

“Now that’s a thought!” 

“We’re not calling the baby Stevie, Harry. Or Nicks. Shit, can you imagine? Harry Styles has a baby and calls it Nicks. Louis Tomlinson calls it Louis’. What a saga.” 

Harry giggles. “Should we just call it Larry?” 

“But what if it’s a girl?” 

“Larrylina sounds good.” 

“Sounds awful, babe. I don’t know if we should put Halo somewhere, though. I mean, how eccentric are we, in the end? How celeb do you want to go?” 

“Not one bit. I would like something quite, I don’t know, traditional? Normal? But not like, not anything super common. Or dumb. Something nautical, maybe.”

Louis hums. “I like that,” he says as he goes inside to get his laptop. “Nautical names…” He mumbles as he clicks on a few links and starts reading the names, boys’ first, out to Harry. 

They’ve gone through a few, but most of them sound like pompous deities. 

“Oh, I quite like Arlo.” Harry agrees finally and repeats it a few times, almost as it tasting it and seeing if he likes the taste. 

“No wonder, love. It derives from Old English and literally means like, an army, or fortified.” 

Harry beams at him. “So strong, basically.”

“Basically, yeh.” They look at each other, happily; it feels like a very them-name. Definitely a worthy candidate. Louis starts reading through the girl names, but none of them really appeal to them immediately. 

“I don’t want to have like, a fine enough name. They have to live with it for the rest of their lives. It has to feel right from the start.” 

“Names are hard. Such a huge responsibility. Which, actually, reminds me of another thing we need to talk about.” 

Harry groans. “Do we have to?” 

“Can’t postpone it forever.”

“But I don’t want to decide the godparents,” Harry whines. “We can’t have everyone, and then so many will be disappointed, and you’ll have to tell them they weren’t chosen.” 

“Or we just have to keep getting more kids so everyone gets their turn?” 

Harry squints his eyes, unsure if being pregnant out of fear of disappointing people he loves is more or less bad than actually disappointing them. He remains undecided, though he definitely wants Little Wonder to have siblings. 

“Siblings.” 

“Yeh, suppose we have to? Dibs on mine.” 

“Hey! Nothing wrong with mine.” 

“True. We can have both.” 

“So Lotts and Gems, yeh?” 

“Yeh. I want to see them forever duel about the best Auntie and godmother titles. Lucky Wonder, they’ll be boasting under showers of adoration and gifts.” 

“As they should,” Harry caresses his bump. “Think I also want Jonny. I know he’s not in the country much, but…” 

Louis nods vigorously. “No, no, totally get it. I was thinking of Stan, you know. Best childhood mate, even if they’re not going to be around much, still think they’d love that.” 

“So two overbearing aunties and two lovely yet absent lads?” 

“Excellent.” 

“Excellent.” 

Later, Harry wakes up, or rather is woken up in the middle of the night with Louis poking his cheek relentlessly. Harry turns to his back and opens his eyes just enough for Louis to see he’s somewhat conscious. 

“Olive,” Louis whispers. 

Harry can’t help but smile. “I love you too, Lou, but it’s too early for this.” 

“No, I mean Olive. As a name. For a girl.” 

Harry loves it immediately.

\--

Halloween comes. And goes. It’s been a week now, almost. Harry’s not sure if he’s more happy that the baby managed to skip an unfortunate birthday, or if he’s unhappy about the looming nappy-duty after losing the bet they’d made months ago. They’re laying in their bed, morning sun starting to rise and paint the room in bright light, with the crisp air flowing from the slightly ajar window (because Harry is hot and bothered all the time) definitely making the approaching winter clear. 

“I’m not going to set crazy expectations on you, ever,” Harry tells his bump, “except this one time. Please can you come out?”

“You’ve made it too comfortable, babe.” Louis mumbles sleepily. 

Harry groans. “I’m done, Lou! Overcooked! See?” Harry hangs his mouth open and points at it. “You can see their legs from my mouth now!”

“It’s literally two days past your due date, love.” 

“It’s literally been over nine months. It’s been too long. I want to divide in two, now.” Harry looks miserable as he’s poking his belly. “I want to sleep on my stomach. I want cheese. And wine. I want to do squats. And I really, really want to meet her.” 

“Her?” Louis melts. 

“Yeah,” Harry smiles back, “I’m starting to feel it’s a girl.”

Louis presses his palm on Harry’s bump and the baby kicks. “Hello, Olive,” he says, testing, and the baby kicks again. They watch in awe as the skin on Harry’s bump stretches under the movement coming from inside it. 

“And how would you feel about Joanne, little wonderful?” They’d talked about it, wanting to use some sort of combination of their mums’ names if the baby were a girl, even before Jay and Anne had actively demanded – or, their words, ‘gently suggested’ – it. 

The baby kicks again, and Louis cuddles the bump, pressing a soft kiss on it and drawing a heart on the skin with his finger. 

“Still so hard to wrap my head around, sometimes.” Louis says quietly, lips hovering on the skin. 

It tickles. “Around what, darling?” Harry’s brushing Louis’ hair with this fingers, occasionally fingers caressing his temple. 

“That we made this. That there’s this… baby, right here, inside you. Because we created it. That people can actually make other people.” 

“Miracle of life,” Harry hums. “And love.” He lets his hand slowly down Louis’ back down to his hip, stopping there to fondle the sensitive skin over Louis’ hip bones. “Love you so much.” 

“Love you, too,” Louis puts his hand over Harry’s and directs it to start petting his inner thigh. He can feel his cock stir, and it almost feels like a crude breakage of this spell of softness and intimacy they’re wrapped in right now. 

Harry doesn’t seem to mind though, as he licks his lips and puts a hand on his chest, starting to breathe a little heavily as he starts to press his fingers into the softness of his breast. Louis reaches his hand out to run his finger on Harry’s lip, gently pressing it inside his hot mouth for Harry to suck. 

“I adore your body,” Louis rasps as he’s kissing Harry’s upper thigh and then hovering his lips over his cock, breathing warm, wet air and admiring how it’s getting so hard, so quickly. “You’re absolutely luscious. Sex on legs. You still turn me on just by walking into the room.” 

Harry’s breath hitches, and he sucks Louis finger deeper into his mouth with his fingers digging into the flesh on Louis’ hip. Louis presses Harry’s tongue down with the tip of his finger before he pulls it off, moving to rub one of Harry’s nipple with the wet tip. “I want you so much,” he licks Harry’s penis from the base to the tip, lips smacking around the tip briefly. “Wanna be so deep inside you, babe.”

“Lou,” Harry gasps. “Please.” 

Louis crawls up on the bed so he’s level with Harry, reaching out to his nightstand and fumbling around for a bit to find the lube. He squeezes a hefty dollop on his left hand, kissing Harry’s shoulder and then his mouth. He fucks his tonque slowly into Harry’s mouth, circling around it until he pulls away. Harry’s got his eyes closed and he’s breathing little huffs against Louis’ lips. 

“How do you want me to fuck you, love?” 

Harry licks his lips, tongue touching Louis’ lips and Louis suckles his tongue. Every part of his body feels like it’s electrified, his skin prickles from head to toe, Harry is touching every part of him and his lips are right here, so plump, so wet, so warm. 

“On my side, honey,” Harry meowls out the last word.

Harry slowly turns to his side, with Louis pressing his face between his shoulder blades and breathing the scent of his skin in. He feels so… primitive, in this moment, like they’re nothing but two naked souls and bodies only meant to be wrapped around and inside each other. 

Louis directs his lubed fingers between Harry’s round butt cheeks and starts running his fingers up his crack gently, teasing his whole. He bites Harry’s neck and pins Harry’s hands above his head with his free hand. 

“So full of me already, my love,” Louis whispers as Harry moans. “You were so good at letting me put a baby in you, let me breed you.” 

Harry meowls and lets out a sob. Louis presses first finger inside him, other two continuing to tease the whole, opening it up to welcome the stretch. “Always so good at taking everything I give you.” He tightens the grip around Harry’s wrists. “Having my baby inside you, soon taking me inside you too. Going to push into you so deep, you’ll feel so good." He presses a second finger in and sucks the skin on the side of Harry’s throat. 

“M’leaking,” Harry chokes out quietly, sounding a little embarrassed and a lot turned on. “My titties are leaking, Lou.” 

Louis lifts his head a little to see a tiny bit of milk gathered on Harry’s nubs. He pushes his fingers inside Harry and pulls them out a few times, then letting go of Harry’s wrists quickly to press out some more lube from the tube and spread it on his hard, throbbing cock. 

“You ready, babe? Ready to be filled?” 

Harry nods fervently, sucking his lower lip into his mouth. He meowls when Louis pushes inside him, pressing his hips tight into Harry’s bum to make sure he’s fully pressed in. 

Louis grabs Harry’s wrists again and holds them down over Harry’s head. He puts his other hand on Harry’s breast, spreading the little leakage around the nipple, then does the same for the other breast, as he’s thrusting into Harry in almost slow motion. Every time he’s almost fully in, he pushes in a little bit more. 

Harry starts moaning louder as Louis takes his earlobe into his mouth, taking turns between sucking and biting it. Louis places his open palm on Harry’s bump, and he swears he can almost feel each push into Harry. 

Neither of them last long; Harry comes first with a long, throaty moan, and Louis follows soon with short grunts. He drops down on the mattress, absolutely spent, and curls around Harry, snuggling his leg around Harry’s. They’re sweaty, scents of different body fluids mixing in the air. 

Harry hugs Louis’ arms around him, stroking his hands. “Don’t think I’ve ever felt this loved.”

Louis hums in an agreement, and it’s the last thing he remembers before he drifts off into a sated, satisfied sleep.


	5. 6th to 7th November, 2014 and then some.

Harry wakes up with a start. He looks at his phone, confused in if it’s day or night. It’s not even midday yet. Something feels… Off. His crotch, for one, feels wet. Gross. 

“Lou,” he whines, not in a sexy way, as he turns around and his bum feels even wetter. “How can you let your pregnant partner sleep in the wet spot?” 

Louis stirs, not speedily enough so Harry lifts his eyelids with his finger and squeezes his nose. Louis opens his eyes, unamused. “What’s the problem now?” 

“You made me sleep in the wet spot.” 

“Huh?” Louis looks confused and then tries around on the bedsheet, halting up suddenly. “Babe, I think your water’s just broke.” 

“No,” Harry laughs incredulously. “Surely I would…” And then he gasps, putting his hands on his stomach. “Feel something like that. Shit, fuck, Lou, I think my water just broke.”

Louis jolts up, amazed at how he even remembers to put underwear on, as he pulls his pants and joggers up and throws on a hoodie over his head. He looks around the room frantically, and locates the hospital bag they’ve packed with great consideration quite a few times. He throws it over his shoulder and opens the bedroom door, so fucking not ready to do this. 

“Uhm, I think I might be needed as well?” Comes a little voice from somewhere behind him.

“Shit, sorry,” Louis rushes to the other side of the bed and pulls Harry up with difficulty. 

Harry winces a few times. “Fucking hell, my back is starting to feel like it’s on fire. Are you sure I can’t to just curl back to sleep and wake up with a flat stomach and a baby on my lap, thank you very much?”

Louis takes his face between his hands and looks him in the eyes for a while, then kissing him with a loud smack. “Let’s go have our baby.” 

As they get downstairs, Louis feels like he has forgotten everything they’ve ever agreed to about this moment. “Uh, was I supposed to drive?” 

“Can you drive?”

Louis doesn’t know. 

“Fine, a taxi then?” 

“Don’t you think an ambulance is better? This is urgent.”

Harry laughs and it feels a bit painful somewhere around his middle, he’s not sure where. “I’ve only had one contraction yet. It’s not that urgent, they’re not going to send an ambulance for this.” 

“Okay, okay, I’ll drive. No child of mine is going to be born in a taxi. Or an über.” Louis picks up the keys to the Audi from the key hook. 

“Lou,” Harry grabs his arm and stills his frantic movements. “Are you sure you can drive?”

“Yeah, yeah. Yes. I’m sure.” 

“I don’t… I don’t need you to fucking panic on me right now.”

In that moment, which Louis will probably remember the rest of his life, the whole world comes to a stop. It doesn’t last long, but it feels like a lifetime. His Harry looks so worried, so scared, so… small, and it sobers Louis up in a second. He feels all the panic leave his body, his shoulders relax and he takes a deep breath. 

“I love you, Harry Styles. You’re fucking golden. We’re going to have a baby and everything will be fine, because you are the best person in this world, and you can do this better than anyone ever has.” Louis pulls Harry into a tight hug, pats the bump asking Little Wonder to please be on their best behaviour, and they head to the hospital. 

The Portland Hospital isn’t too far from their home but it’s the longest car ride Harry’s ever been on, and he sort of hopes it’ll never end because once it does… Hell, he’ll have to give birth. He can feel the contractions coming still rather sporadically, not too close to each other, and he knows the pain isn’t comparable to what it will be – soon – and it scares the hell out of him. 

They stop at red lights, and he picks Louis’ phone from the pocket of his hoodie. Time to call his mum. 

Anne’s voice has never sounded more comforting as it does now when she picks up. 

“Hiya mum, it’s me. Yeh, no, everything’s fine, just…” Harry wants to ask Louis to drive to Cheshire and just take him to his mum. “We’re on our way to the hospital. -- Yeah, the real deal, I think. – Like, maybe just a little over ten minutes? I don’t – Mum, please don’t start crying – Can you just let everyone know, just as we agreed? – Okay, thanks – No, I’m really fucking scared – I will? I’ll take your word for that – Love you too. Yeh, of course he will. Bye now.” 

Harry finishes the call and realises he’d been holding Louis’ hand. He gets the biggest contraction yet right as they drive up to the hospital. 

“You need to fight all of them if they tell us to go home, that it’s too soon.” Harry stutters to Louis, leaning forward from the cramp as they walk through the doors. 

“They’re not sending us home, love. We pay two grand a night,” Louis says as he turns his phone off and they sign in. 

After a humiliating amount of prodding and probing, and disappointing news of how little he’s dilated, Harry’s laying on the hospital bed in their private room. There’s a beeping sound coming from the monitors, and there’s a needle going into Harry’s hand. The environment feels so sanitary and clinical, but at least he knows it from when they went for a welcome tour, and being one of the most exclusive hospitals, Harry guesses he could be in more worse hands. 

“Sing to me,” Harry pleads as Louis comes back from the loo and sits on a chair next to him. 

“What do you want me to sing?” 

“You know,” Harry crosses his hands on his bump and closes his eyes, soothed into wistful sleep as Louis starts singing Songbird quietly, brushing his hair with his fingers. 

\--

It’s been eleven hours now, and Harry wants to die – unless he is already dead and by some fluke of karma, he ended up in hell instead of heaven. The contractions have gotten worse, they’re more frequent, and the shooting pain shakes his whole body. He’d tried curling his toes very tightly, as that’s something he’s done to try to focus any physical pain away since he was a kid. This time, it made his foot cramp. Another contraction hits him and he groans in pain.

“You said you’d do this for me.” 

“I guess I can’t, I’m sorry.” Louis doesn’t wince as Harry squeezes his hand tighter. He has probably cut Louis’ circulation a few contractions ago, but he doesn’t care. Seems fair. 

“You liar. You’re the worst.” 

“I know, love.” Louis focuses on rubbing Harry’s shoulder, pressing a little kiss on it. 

“You’re not, you’re the best,” Harry’s breath hitches. “You’re the best.” 

“You’re the best too. We’re almost there. They are almost here.”

“Who?” Harry looks disoriented as he’s trying to catch his breath now, the current contraction over. 

“Little Wonder.” 

“Little fucker,” Harry says so quietly Louis almost doesn’t hear it, but he does. Harry looks at his bump shocked, apologising profusely and then telling Louis that he is, quite literally, the biggest fucker in this room. In their family. Maybe the world. 

It’s not long after that a midwife walks into their room, checking on how much Harry has dilated. She nods approvingly. 

“Now would be the time to start setting you up for an epidural, if you’d want? The grande finale is approaching us in about thirty minutes.”

“Yes, please,” Harry breathes out. “Give me all the epidurals.” 

The nurse nods and leaves the room, telling them she’ll be back soon with some more people. 

“Lou,” Harry starts slowly and tries to turn his upper body to face Louis. “I need you to promise me something.” 

“Anything, love. Everything.” 

“If anything happens, I…”

“Nothing’s going to happen.”

“Lou, please. Listen to me. If anything happens, you have to promise me that you’ll put our baby first.” 

Louis knows his face must show the dread he feels. “What do you mean? Nothing’s going to happen.” 

“But if, if anything is about to happen, I need to be able to trust you to do the right thing if I’m unable to decide. The baby’s more important than me. I’m not giving up on it, not after everything. You have to promise me to put our baby first.”

Louis takes Harry’s hand and presses it to his cheek, kissing the delicate skin inside the wrist. “I promise.” 

Despite Harry’s new favourite people, the epic epidural squad as he hazily refers to them, it doesn’t make pushing Harry’s favourite sport. The pressure in his pelvic area feels like it might make him explode, he’s sweating and his voice is so hoarse by now, and why is this taking so long, he’s been doing this for three days now. 

“Why is this taking so long, why isn’t anyone saying anything, she’s dead, I know she’s dead, no one’s telling me,” he whimpers as he’s gripping Louis’ forearm, with Louis wrapped around his upper body. 

“Shh, love, it’s all fine, everything’s just as it should be,” Louis tries to remain calm. Everything is going fine, the baby is just stubborn, clearly one of theirs. 

Louis looks at Harry, face all blotted and red, sweaty and tears dried on his cheeks. He would give anything to be able to turn back time, to never having gotten Harry pregnant so he wouldn’t have to go through this right here. And yet, despite Louis having always felt that his love for Harry is bigger than he can ever put into any words, any lyrics, it’s never come even close to how much he loves Harry right now. 

“Being so brave, my love. Doing so well.” 

“We have a head coming through! Harry, darling, two more big pushes, and it will all be done. Two more and it’s over!” The midwife sounds vaguely like a cheerleader. 

Harry inhales as deep as he can, thinks about a cat named Kitty, and pushes as he exhales. He feels like he might actually pass out from the excruciating pain, but he thinks about little curls and the picture of their shoes and somehow, it fills him with the strangest kind of euphoria, and he pushes again. 

And then there’s a loud cry and cheers and Harry flops back into the bed, covering his eyes with his hands as he starts bawling like a little child, and Louis is pressing kisses all over his face, repeating how much he loves him. 

“Congratulations, gentlemen. It’s Friday, the 7th November, it’s 00:28 and your daughter has just made an entrance.” 

And then there’s the tiniest, most beautiful little girl, gently put into his arms. She has a mess of a dark hair and bright blue eyes, looking like she knows every single thing about this world. The baby is hiccupping and staring at Harry and Louis, and Harry can feel his hospital robe start getting wet from where he knows Louis is leaning his head. 

“Hello, Little Wonderful,” Harry whispers. “Welcome to the world.” He knows his soul and heart are forever stolen; there’s nothing he wouldn’t do and no mountains he wouldn’t move to always protect her.

“We’ve been waiting for you,” Louis says with a choked-up voice. This is the most unrealest, most magical moment of his life, and it feels like it’s a dream. He doesn’t feel like he’s even in his own body right now, but looking at them three from the outside – Harry who is made of magic, this tiny perfect creature made of love, who’s somehow their daughter, and these two are the most amazing things that he has ever seen, that have ever existed in all of existence. 

\--

Louis had the honour to call everyone and listen to everyone cry. It had taken a few times from Harry to find a breastfeeding rhythm with little Olive, but they got there eventually. Harry had said that he was in such an awe of the things his own body could do; creating a life, carrying a child, giving birth and now feeding their daughter. 

“I can’t believe we’re going home and we’ll be three now. Like, we’re bringing a new human home and who is always going to be with us and then it’ll always be us three. Like, this is our family now,” Louis sounds mesmerised as they’re packing their final items from the room, finally ready to go home. 

Harry has Olive snugly tucked in with a baby carrier bag, arms cradled around her. He feels like he hasn’t stopped staring at her ever since he first saw her – he doesn’t want to, at least. 

“I’m glad we told everyone to only come by tomorrow.” 

“Mm, me too. Don’t want to share her just yet. This is just for us. They got pictures, that should be enough.” 

“You going to post now?” 

“Yeah.” 

Louis posts a picture of their hands, this time – Olive’s two tiny hands gripping her dads’ fingers tightly, one in each hand. He captions it ‘Our hands, your hands’ with the hashtags #olive and #weloveyou. 

\--

“You know, Lewis, I just remembered,” Louis’ nan tells him as he’s filling her coffee cup again, “there’s this poem about how a birthday deems a baby’s destiny.” 

“Yeh? What does it say?” 

“Let me just pick my brain for a bit,” his nan mutters silently for a bit, her wrinkly fingers tapping in the air as if she’s playing an imaginary piano. “Ah! It says that Friday’s child is loving and giving.” 

Louis beckons Harry to his side and repeats the words. Harry smiles happily. “That sounds like our Olive, for sure. I hope she will be, just that.” He looks around their living room, family gathered around and everyone hovering over whoever’s turn it is to have Olive in their arms. 

After everyone’s gone to bed, Harry and Louis sneak into Olive’s nursery. It seems to have become a habit of theirs – if you could call doing it in two consecutive nights a habit, yet. 

“We’re such creepy parents,” Harry says amusedly. “I just want to stare at her. Don’t think I can ever sleep again.”

“I don’t think I ever want to sleep again,” Louis whispers as they stop by the cot. Olive is huffing a little in her sleep. “Look at how tiny and peaceful she is. Can you believe we made her?” 

“We did so well,” Harry holds his fist up and Louis bumps it. 

Very quietly, careful not to wake their daughter, Harry starts singing the lyrics of David Bowie’s Little Wonder, with Louis soon joining him.

**Author's Note:**

> Congratulations and thank you if you made it this far! I truly hope you have enjoyed :) 
> 
> Kudos and comments are even better than a lump of cheese and wine after giving birth. 
> 
> Also, I do hope to continue this verse in the future with an expanding family - just a heads up if you'd like to follow :)


End file.
